A Rogue's Discretion
by Kurgs
Summary: Fenris seeks aid from a foul-mouthed rogue!F!Hawke.  An unconventional, and incredibly angsty romance ensues, along with a ton of past-related drama. AU. Contains a LOT of cursing.  Qunari!Hawke as well!  It's not as bad as it sounds, I promise.
1. If I Had Known Of You

**A/N:** After the first Fenris quest, he says something along the lines of "Well, if I knew about you I would have asked you." The premise of this story (or just the start of it) is basically if he had. Warning! This Hawke cusses, A LOT. And this also explains why A Warrior's Heart hasn't been updated, I'm distracted by _everything._ I hardly got this finished with that whole 'real life' thing. A plus though, I'm graduating a year early! Anyway, your basic 'I don't own these characters' disclaimers, yadda yadda, enjoy!

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><p>Fenris had a problem. Well, actually, Fenris didn't have <em>a <em>problem, Fenris had _lots _of problems. It was simply that this particular problem had an expiration date. A trap set for a wolf can only last so long before it's sprung by a stray rabbit. He had dealt with ambushes before, but this time there were far too many of them for one warrior to handle, no matter how strong.

Anso was useless, a coward. All he said was "Well, you could- you could go to Athenril. She's, uh, she's got- people." He shook his head nervously and his eyes seemed to grow wider than they already were, threatening to pop out of his skull like arrows to protect him. Anso scurried away, leaving Fenris with nothing but a name. Athenril.

Luckily for Fenris, as useless as Anso was, his information was still good. Athenril was quite well-known, and fairly simple to track down. There weren't many elven women that had made names for themselves in this city, so for that he had to respect her, but the business she was in? He didn't have to respect that.

The warehouse was a nameless, faceless, drop-spot littered with more bodies than the dungeons at the Gallows. He assumed that the area patrols were too busy smelling coin to smell corpses. Athenril stood at the edge of a small dock while a small man with a limp muttered something obviously displeasing to her. The first thing Fenris heard her say, or shout, was "I do not pay you to bring me bad news! I pay you to get results! So the next time you come to me with bullshit like that expect me to carve it out of your fucking face!"

The man looked like he was about to say something, but one pointed glare had him scurrying away like a rat. "Next!" She yelled as the next client approached the dock. It went on like that for a while, Athenril would cuss someone out for doing something wrong, or she'd take on a new job, occasionally hire someone to run something for her, until it was Fenris's turn. He didn't like waiting in line, but he was on his last leg, if Athenril couldn't help him he'd a miss a golden opportunity to get one over on his 'master'.

"And what in the Void are you?" Athenril's first question was a sarcastic play on his obviously strange appearance.

"What I am is not relevant, what I want is." Fenris spat at her, he was nothing for bedside manner.

"And to think _you_ came to _me_." Athenril shook her head, but she was pleased, no one had stood up to her today, it was about time. "What is it that you want? And why should I help you?"

"I had some cargo stolen from me, I need it back." They never took their eyes off each other, it was a hostile negotiation, but most were when it came to Athenril.

"Then go get it." She spoke with a harsh edge.

"I would, but it's heavily guarded. I was told to come to you."

"We aren't a mercenary company. Go to the Red Iron if you need sell-swords, I hear Meeran is a real nice guy to work with."

"I don't have the coin for 'sell-swords'. I need thieves."

"So you can't pay them, but you can pay us?"

"I don't need as many of you."

Athenril snorted, "Where is it?"

"The Lowtown Alienage. Protected by Tevinter slavers." Fenris figured that lying about it wouldn't matter, if she was going to sell him out she'd do it regardless of who it was to.

"Slavers? You want me to send my men to steal from slavers? We don't trade in flesh, anybody knows that, so unless there's something _else _you want I suggest you leave." Athenril crossed her arms and glared, not that it was much different from her usual posture.

"Ugh, that's not what I want you to steal." Fenris said, disgusted.

Athenril raised an eyebrow, "Oh? What the hell else could they have? Scratch that, I don't want to know, we aren't helping you. We're spread out thin enough as it is, I'm not sending anyone to their deaths. Slavers are bad business and I'll have none of it."

Fenris clenched his fists and his jaw before he continued, "_Fine_, do you know anyone else that can help me, besides _Meeran?_" He hissed through his teeth.

She stopped in thought for a moment, unsure of whether telling him about her was a good idea. _'Eh, not like she's my problem anymore.' _Athenril thought. "You want Hawke."

"And where do I find this Hawke?" Fenris loosened up a bit, glad that she wasn't being anal about this.

"The Hanged Man, usually with a stumpy, beardless dwarf by the name of Varric."

"And you're sure that this _one_ man can help me?" Fenris asked with skepticism.

Athenril laughed, as did any of her men there that were paying enough attention to hear Hawke's name, "_Man? _She'd be nicer if she was a man, and less threatening. She can help you though, and she'll probably do it for free if you mention slavers."

Free? No way. Nobody did anything dangerous for anyone else for _free_. Fenris turned to leave, but Athenril had more to say, "She's a bitch, Hawke, her sister is nice enough, but she'll chew you up and spit you out. Watch yourself." Fenris simply nodded and walked away.

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><p>Nobody really gave a shit what happened in the Hanged Man, as long as there were chairs, tables, and alcohol when it was done with. So when a big, burly man with an eye patch came in yelling about 'that Fereldan whore' no one really cared. Which of course made the big, burly man with the eye patch yell louder. Fenris was only vaguely paying attention, this was quite obviously not Hawke and he didn't care about Fereldans or whores. He was looking for a woman with short, black hair, as dark as death itself, a face painted with the blood of her enemies, and eyes icy enough to pierce through your very soul. At least, that's how the dwarf had described her, although, with the obvious embellishments on the other stories he had heard him tell in the time he had sat waiting he was half-expecting Hawke to be a short, fat child with a toy dagger. In this case though, the dwarf was spot on.<p>

Mr. Eye Patch just wouldn't shut up, "She stole from me, made my wife leave me, and killed my brother! I swear, when she shows up, she'll pay! As will any of you if I find out you know where she is and haven't told me." His last statement was obviously pointed at the bartender, as the man had gotten a whole three inches away from his face and practically growled it.

Seemingly prompted by Mr. Eye Patch's rant, a rather provocative, dark-skinned woman (who hadn't moved in the whole time Fenris had been there) pushed away from the bar and sashayed over to Varric, the dwarf who told tales far taller than himself. "Varric," she crooned, "when is Hawke gonna get here? She promised that we were both going to get piss-ass drunk tonight. I'm already halfway there and she hasn't even showed up."

"My, my, Isabela, it seems like she's a popular woman tonight. First that elf, then Gordon over there, and now you? The way I see it she's probably avoiding all the attention, or maybe just Gordon." Varric and Isabela both talked incredibly loud, obviously trying to make Gordon angry, which _obviously _worked. He stormed over in quite the fit of rage. Fenris found that the best course of action, in this case, was no action, he sat, watched, and wondered if Hawke actually _was_ a Fereldan whore.

"Where is she?" Gordon shouted (a full decibel louder than he had already been) as he slammed his fists down on the table.

"That's kind of the point, isn't it? _I don't know._ That's why I had to ask, you blundering idiot! Now would you please calm your shit down!" Isabela said, regardless of consequence.

"Well, I, on the other hand, know where she is, but I'm just not telling you. She'll get here when she gets here." Varric shrugged.

Gordon let out a guttural roar and lunged at Varric, stopping when he was nose-to-nose with him. "Tell me where she is or I'll rip your head off and use it for target practice!"

"Now, now, now," An unfamiliar voice purred from behind Gordon, it's owner blocked from Fenris's view by his hulking form, "That is no way to treat my friends, and I really don't think Bianca likes threats."

"Ah, Hawke! Your incredibly well-timed entrances never cease to amaze me." Varric sighed in relief.

"You! You. Are. Dead!" Gordon lifted his arms and let out yet another battle cry, probably winding up to strangle her, but before he could let loose there was a blade running through his mouth and out the top of his skull.

"Ha! Teach him to run his mouth!" Isabela laughed as Gordon's corpse hit the ground.

"What the hell, Hawke? I know you could have just debilitated him and let the law handle it, did you _have _to kill him?" Another woman, whom Fenris had not noticed in the commotion, asked.

"Yes, Aveline, _I did._ He was going to kill me, so I killed him first, this is just how these things work. Besides, I was flustered, a giant man lunged at me, what else was I supposed to do?" Hawke looked at Aveline with wide eyes, and Fenris got his first real look at her. With a bloodied dagger in her hand and a body at her feet, a sight he would later find to be not the slightest bit out of the norm. She was exactly as Varric had described, gorgeous and terrifying.

"Bullshit, Hawke, I know full-well you weren't the slightest bit 'flustered', you just wanted him dead." Aveline retorted.

"Well _yeah, _the man was a slave trader who beat his wife, did you really think I was going to let him walk out of here?" Hawke asked with a raised brow.

Aveline shrugged, "You have a point, but why couldn't you have done it in a back-alley or something? Do you have any idea how much paperwork is going to go with this?"

"You're forgetting something, Aveline, I don't_ care._"

"Oh, of course you don't, silly of me to think you might." Aveline shook her head as they sat down with Varric and Isabela.

Fenris didn't approach her as he might of in a different situation, he had already explained what he needed to Varric, and Varric had sworn up and down that as soon as Hawke arrived he would point her in his direction. Apparently this job 'had Hawke written all over it'. While normally Fenris would take matters into his own hands, he was going to have to work with this woman and he wanted to know how trustworthy her companions were, even if it was something as trivial as passing along information.

"Alright, Varric, what've you got for me?" Hawke asked as took a long gulp from his mug, he didn't seem to care.

"Well, Anders wants you to help him at the clinic this weekend, but-" Varric started to say when Isabela cut him off.

"But what he didn't say is how badly he wants to fuck you until you can't see straight in that ramshackle office of his." Isabela nodded, as though she had just give some absolutely vital information.

"I wouldn't have put it quite so, artistically, but I suppose that's the core of it. I've gotta run down to Darktown today anyway, do you want me to pass along a message?" Varric grinned at Isabela.

Hawke took a moment to think, and drink, before she spoke, "No, no, just let him fester for a while, if I send you to reject him he's going to be three-times worse than if I do it myself, and I can't fucking handle that shit from him. Instead of doting on me and constantly staring at my chest it's going to be mages-this and mages-that all damn day. I'm not sure which is worse."

"He's going to ask. What do you want me to tell him?" Varric pointed out.

"Ugh, just tell him I said I'd go for one day, and _only_ one, I can handle the rest of it myself. I'm thinking that he'll be much less angry all the time if he thinks he still has a chance. I mean, have you _seen_ him angry? That's a fucking terrorist waiting to happen." Hawke changed her tune after thinking about it again.

"Don't you think that leading him on is a little cruel? He doesn't deserve that, no matter how angry he is." Aveline piped in.

"Do I look like I give a shit? He's an abomination, and as far as I'm concerned he doesn't _have _feelings." Hawke glared at Aveline, her distaste for the situation apparent.

"Would you not say that so loud!"

"Again, Aveline, I give no shits. We have the maps, if he gets caught by Templars, he gets caught. It's not like he can't just bust out again."

Aveline just sighed again, and dropped the subject. Fenris could hear everything, of course, and he wasn't sure if he liked this woman or not, she was obviously against slavery, which was a plus, but she consorted with an abomination, which was not. Her views on mages as a whole weren't clear either. He appreciated her candor, however, she was certainly not one to hold her tongue. She would probably swear at the Knight-Commander herself if given the opportunity.

"Alright, Varric, anything else?" Hawke turned back to him.

"Yeah, that elf, right there," Varric pointed at Fenris, who then sat up perfectly straight, "wants to talk to you. He's got a job for us."

"Oh balls." Hawke sighed, "At least that explains the staring." But she got up anyway, despite the fact that she seemed incredibly abject to even talk to him.

It took her two seconds to get to his two-man table and sit directly across from him, she rested her elbow on the table and her chin in her hand. She didn't say anything. No hello. No what do you want. No nothing. It was incredibly awkward. They just stared at each other for about five whole minutes before Hawke broke the silence, "Well, what the fuck do you want? _You _wanted to talk to _me, _remember?" This was starting to seem oddly familiar to Fenris.

He just gritted his teeth and shrugged it off, he knew that as much as he wanted to be rude right back it wasn't going to get him anywhere. "I lost some cargo, it's going to be heavily guarded and I need to get it back."

"What is it and how much are you paying me?" Hawke asked, looking rather nonchalant.

"It's _cargo_, and I can give you 10 sovereigns to cover your payment and equipment cost."

"I'm going to, very kindly, I might add, ignore the fact that you're being evasive. Where is it?"

"A house in the Lowtown Alienage." He was starting to see why Hawke and Athenril didn't get along, they were far too much alike.

"So, you want me to steal back some heavily-guarded _cargo _from a house in the Alienage, correct?"

"Yes."

"And who am I stealing it from?"

"Tevinter slavers."

"No."

"What?" Fenris asked, shocked.

"No, I'm not helping you."

"Why the hell not!" Fenris growled, his patience wearing thin.

"Don't you raise your voice at me! If you want your slaves back you go get them yourself, you're lucky I don't gut you right now for having the balls to even ask me!" Hawke stood up and glared down at him.

Fenris was enraged, he glowed and glowered and towered over Hawke like a giant when he stood to face her, "It's _not _slaves!" He shouted.

At this point Varric, Isabela, and Aveline were all watching rather intently, however, Varric was snickering to himself at Hawke's quick temper. He knew this was going to happen, it was just a matter of how glow-boy would handle it, Hawke didn't take well to secrecy and he was full of it.

"Unnamed cargo that slavers are keeping in the Alienage of all places, what the hell else could it possibly be?" Hawke shouted back.

"I don't know!" And there was the truth of it, Fenris had no idea what it was, just that it was a trap that he couldn't handle on his own.

Hawke's face contorted to incredulity and she sat back down, trying to puzzle out what the hell just happened. "You don't know?"

Fenris sat down again as well, "No, I don't. It's an ambush."

"By slavers?" Hawke asked, curiosity instantly piqued again.

"Yes. I don't know how many, but it's more than I can handle alone." Fenris looked down and away from her, ashamed to admit that there was anything he could handle.

"Well why didn't you say so? I'll have it done by the end of the day!"

Fenris was even more shocked now than he was when she had first refused, her enthusiasm was quite unexpected. "Really?"

"What, you're asking for help and then you're surprised when you get it? You are _odd_. Oh, and as long as I can keep anything on the bodies you can keep your money. Do you have a map or something for me, I need to know _which_ house to go running into." Hawke smiled at him, warm and devious.

"Uh- yeah," Fenris pulled out a folded piece of paper Anso had given him and handed it to her, "but I have to pay you."

"You can pay Isabela then," Hawke pointed at her as she stood up, "she never refuses money. I, on the other hand, will take any chance to stick it to slavers."

"She's right, love!" Isabela called from her seat.

"Well, what are you all waiting for, up-to, we've got work to do!" Hawke said to her other companions as she headed for the door.

"Wait!" Fenris called, and Hawke turned her head back to him, "I'm coming with you."

"No. You aren't. I don't know you, and I don't trust you, therefor fighting alongside you is a big, fucking mistake. Maybe next time." And with that Hawke, Varric, Aveline, and a well-paid Isabela left the Hanged Man.

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><p><strong>AN: **Tadda! I hope someone notices the theme in my story titles. (And what that means!) But, I'll mention now, I'm taking **major **creative licence on Hawke's background and time-lines, like, seriously AU. I'm thinking that I'll take the Anders route for the next part! (After Bait & Switch is finished up anyway.) Thoughts and suggestions! I'll be finishing up the next part of A Warrior's Heart first, so I won't be starting anything new right away, but I really love the idea of basing a story on Isabela having a sister, any opinions on that? It'll be a while, but it'll be fantastic!


	2. A Dull Throb

**A/N: **Okay, this turned out much longer than I intended, but I doubt that that's a bad thing. Anyway, the purpose of this chapter is mostly to explain the differences between the past of game Hawke and this Hawke, and there are a _lot_ of them, like, the whole freaking thing. My timeline makes sense to me, but please, please, _please_ tell me if you notice any discrepancies. Hawke is going to seem _much _different by the end of the chapter, but I promise, she really hasn't changed! (This is just her serious side.) Oh, and all of my information on the Qunari comes from the various conversations I've had with the Arishok, the wiki page, and my nifty little strategy guide. That's right, _Qunari._

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><p>"Dead, dead, dead, every last fucking one of them!" An accomplished, blood-coated Hawke laughed to herself as she clapped her hands together.<p>

"Hawke, are you quite alright? You seem to be enjoying this a little too much." A skeptic Aveline asked as she eyed the carnage.

"Perfectly fine, Aveline, I don't know what you could _possibly_ mean." Hawke retorted, pulling at a flap of skin hanging off the face of one of her many nameless victims.

"Uh, Hawke, I think she has a point, you don't usually... play with corpses." Anders commented, staring at Hawke from what he _believed_ to be a safe distance.

"She does when it's slavers." Isabela shrugged, this was kind of her normal routine, torture slavers, kill slavers, pick at slavers' corpses. She was just glad that Hawke had glossed over the torture phase this time, probably because she really didn't want to expose Aveline and Anders to it, though she would never admit to that. In all the time they had traveled together, since their chance encounter at the docks of Minrathous, Hawke had never displayed more abject hatred for anything than she did for those who traded in flesh.

"No, Isabela! That's not it at all! What if he's got some sort of gem embedded in his cheekbones? I would never be able to forgive myself if I missed something like that!" Hawke cried, completely convincing.

"Hawke, are you serious?" Anders questioned.

"Nah, I'm just fucking with you." Hawke said dismissively as she stood and dusted off her knees.

"Oh, you'll fuck with him, but you won't fuck with me? I see how you are." Isabela crossed her arms and Anders' cheeks flushed red.

"You'd better watch out, Anders, or she'll think there's a gem in _your_ cheekbones." Aveline joked as Anders turned away from the group.

"Oh, no fucking way," Hawke stared in disbelief, momentarily making Anders think that it was the start of a very public rejection, "there's _more_ of them!"

Another soldier was waltzing his way down the stairs with a nasty looking haircut, "I don't know who you are, friend, but you've made a-"

Hawke cut him off, "Oh, no, no, no, I am _not _your friend, you shouldn't use such a word lightly. You can continue with your speech now." Hawke nodded with a short smile and a wave of her hand.

The man shook his head, obviously not expecting her to be so nonchalant, "Lieutenant, I want everyone in the clearing, now!"

A heavily armored, and certainly stumbling man wobbled his way around the corner, projecting a wave of blood from his mouth directly onto the face of his 'Captain' before he fell, dead, and the elf that had assigned them this job took his place.

"Your men are dead, your trap has failed, I suggest running back to your master while you have the chance."

"No, you are coming with me, sl-ah!" And he was dead, heart ripped clean out of his chest.

"I am no slave."

Isabela and Hawke looked at each other, nodded, and... applauded? The two of them clapped their hands together as Anders and Aveline just stared at them. "I just _knew _there was a reason I liked him!" Isabela said, "I _told _you, I did!"

"And I told you that you didn't have to worry about me telling him not to come, because he was going to come anyway, and what did you tell me then? Hmm?"

Isabela's head drooped down in a drastic change of attitude, "I said he wouldn't."

"And what did he do?" Hawke asked, looking rather triumphant.

"He did." Isabela frowned.

"That's right, he did, and what did _else _did you tell me?"

"That if he had the balls to cross a direct order from Hawke herself that I'd buy all the drinks tonight."

"Indeed you did, Isabela, indeed you did."

Fenris was speechless, well, almost speechless, hearing anything about 'direct orders' riled him up, more so than he already was, "I do _not _take orders from you!"

"Fucking hell!" Isabela shouted, digging a coin from her pocket and dropping it in Hawke's now outstretched hand, "How do you do it, Hawke? How could you have possibly known that he would get all pissy at the very mention of orders?"

"I'm a con-artist, Isabela, reading people is kind of what I do." Hawke smiled and turned back to Fenris, who's face displayed a mixture of rage and confusion. "Now, is there anything you'd like to tell me? This was an awfully large ambush for one man, not that I mind of course."

Fenris scowled, "I am Fenris, they were looking for me, bounty hunters trying to reclaim their master's property."

"Oh, _really_? Like we couldn't have guessed that, I knew you were an escaped slave the second I laid eyes on you. Thanks for finally giving me a name to put with your face, though. I'm not asking what you are, I'm asking why you're so damn important that these idiots have to tear up _my _city." Hawke was getting argumentative.

"How could you have possibly known that, Hawke?" Anders asked from behind her.

To which Isabela replied, "Do _not _ask questions like that, she'll stab you."

Ignoring the two, Fenris continued, "These markings, obviously, my _master _branded them into my skin, against my wishes. They have served me well though, without them I would still be a slave."

Hawke watched him for a moment, having some sort of internal conversation with herself, before she turned on her heel and said, "Alright girls, job's over, let's go home."

"Hey! I am _not _a girl!" Anders protested.

"Don't _fucking _question me, Anders, I'm not blind and I will call you a girl if I damn-well want to! You are wearing a dress, aren't you?" Hawke bit back, she wasn't really upset with him, more so with the fact that all the slavers were dead and she hadn't had the chance to get any information out of a single one of them.

"Alright, alright, don't bite my head off." Anders mumbled, he had been getting more and more frustrated with Hawke, well, more with the idea of Hawke, but she rarely snapped at him that badly.

"Wait, not quite." Fenris added when he finally got the chance, "My former master had to have accompanied them to the city, I know you must have questions, but I have to confront him before he flees. I will... need your help."

Hawke turned to him with a wide, devilish grin, "Oh no, no questions at all. Lead the way."

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><p>In the end it turned out to be a useless endeavor. They came, they saw, they killed everything in the mansion, but there was no 'master'. He was gone, to both Hawke's and Fenris's dismay. Isabela understood her frustration, and Fenris hadn't known her long enough to see that it was out of character for her to be this upset by, well, anything, but Anders and Aveline noticed a very distinct change in the woman that was otherwise Hawke.<p>

"I escaped a life in which I was surrounded by dark magic, only to find myself in its company yet again." Fenris said as the group caught up with him, "I should have noticed earlier what your companion here is, a _mage, _do you understand what you are allying yourself with?"

"Oh lords, here we go," an irritated Hawke shook her head, "are you going to tell me all about how I'm harboring a man that might turn to blood magic and crazy demon sex orgies as soon as he catches a whiff of the power that will undoubtedly drive him mad? Because I already fucking know that! Why you didn't catch on the second you saw him is beyond me, honestly, the robes and the staff are kind of a dead giveaway."

"I- I did not mean to offend you, nor do I mean to sound ungrateful, nothing could be farther from the truth." A shocked Fenris spoke.

"And now you sound like a kiss-ass, don't apologize for saying what you mean. I don't like this whole mage thing either, but an ally is an ally, and I doubt that you can tell me he isn't useful."

"Gee, thanks a lot, Hawke." Anders muttered, blaming her foul disposition on whatever had possessed her to fillet corpses earlier on, though, thinking about it, possessed was probably the worst term he could have possibly used.

"Oh, shut up, Anders, not like you don't hear it all the time." Hawke was getting steadily more upset.

Fenris couldn't understand her, nothing she did made sense, but at the same time it most certainly did. Her honesty was refreshing and disconcerting all at once, and he had no doubt that it had, most likely in several instances, gotten her in trouble. He had yet to decide how to handle her, or if he even could. The world he had come from was full of deception and lies, treachery and deceit, and he had found that, although not as severe, things were not much different here. To find someone that spoke the truth regardless of things like _feelings _would be quite the lucky break. He supposed that she could still be lying, he had seen more than his fair share of people that changed their opinions with every set of guests, but only time would tell. It wasn't like him to put this much thought into an- "Is there anything else you need? We're wasting the precious few hours I get to sleep."

"No," Fenris said, shaken from thought, "but I feel as though I have not compensated you sufficiently. If you need my blade, I will be here, and I may have need of you, as well. I have not seen the last of Danarius, that much is certain."

"Oh, I can think of more than a few ways you can use your _blade _to _compensate _me." Isabela chimed in.

"Isabela! Is there anyone you don't hit on?" Aveline asked.

"Varric. I never hit on Varric." Isabela nodded.

"Because of Bianca, undoubtedly." Hawke added before turning back to Fenris, "If I have need of you, I will not hesitate, in fact, I'll be by tomorrow morning, we need to chat." The way she said it was almost foreboding, Fenris was not certain this was a chat he really wanted to have. "Oh, and Isabela, could you run back to our room and get my nighttime _medicine _ready, I'm walking Anders back to the clinic." Anders lit up at this news, as he was not aware of it until just then.

"Hawke, you don't have to hide it, everyone already knows you're an alcoholic." Aveline shook her head.

"Am not, and mind your own fucking business. If I can't sleep right without a pint or two, then so be it." Aveline only shook her head at Hawke again.

"I might have something for that at the clinic, do you want to go now?" Anders asked, forever hopeful.

"Sure thing, my mage-y friend, let's go." Hawke winked at him, back to herself again, even if it was only because she knew she'd be deep in an alcohol induced sleep within the hour.

"I'll be headed back to the Hanged Man in moment, I'm gonna have a little talk with these two." Isabela smiled reassuringly, and Hawke eyed her with suspicion as she walked away. Fenris felt rather awkward, he couldn't just walk away, it seemed awfully rude.

"She's not an alcoholic, you know." Isabela spoke directly at Aveline.

"Is so, she's drank herself to sleep every night since I've known her." Aveline retorted, firm on her position.

"It's that or waking everyone and their dog with her shouting!" Isabela snapped, quite angry. "Without it there isn't a single night Hawke doesn't wake from night terrors, yelling about Malcom or Maker knows what, and you have no place to chastise her about it!"

"Isabela, I didn't _know!_ And besides, like she really cares what I say."

"But she _does, _Aveline, you just don't see it."

"Well I-"

"I really don't see how this has this has anything to do with me, I'm sure I'll see you around though." Fenris interrupted.

"Oh, no, it has everything to do with you," Isabela said, "you just don't know it yet."

"And what is that supposed to mean?" Fenris asked, growing frustrated with the whole situation, this really wasn't his business.

"You were a slave, which means you know about slavers and magisters and all that shit, and I'm sure Hawke thinks that means you know something about whatever the hell it is she's been looking for for the last 6 years." Isabela said, and Aveline's face betrayed her surprise.

"What- what is she looking for?" Aveline asked.

"Oh, hell if I know, she's my closest friend and she still won't tell me, sometimes I doubt _she_ even knows."

Fenris was done speaking to people, this _really _wasn't his business, "I'm going back inside now, we're done here."

"Hey, wait, I didn't even tell you what I wanted to tell you!" Isabela called at his retreating form.

Fenris sighed, "What?"

"Even though I doubt she will, if she tries drilling you for information tomorrow, remember that she still has feelings under all that bravado. I know you just met her, but _we're _the ones that have to deal with her when she comes home pissed."

"You can say that again." Aveline added as the conversation came to it's final close.

* * *

><p>"So, Hawke..." Anders started as they walked, not certain how to go about talking to her.<p>

"Yes, Anders? Still butt-hurt about my mage comments?" Hawke laughed.

"Uh, no, it's alright. I was just, I wanted to ask you something."

"Well, go for it, this walk isn't going to last forever."

"Unfortunately." Anders smiled, "I was just wondering what it was that had you so upset today, I worry about you, Hawke.

Hawke clenched her jaw, "You shouldn't, I can worry about myself." She was so sick of his constant doting, she had herself convinced that dealing with it was for the best though, better he be sickly romantic than jilted and angry. Mages weren't nice when they were angry.

"Fine, then I'm not worried about you," Anders was tired of trying to be nice to her all the time, when she obviously never cared, "I just want to know what turned you into such a bitch today."

"Fucking finally! Thank the Maker you've stopped flanking everything you say with niceties. Thank you." Hawke was serious, she much preferred it when people didn't screw around.

"What, you actually want me to call you a bitch? You know, you make _no _sense Hawke, you're so- so confusing!" Anders stopped at the stairs to Darktown.

"No, I don't want you to call me a bitch, I want you to say what you mean! I'm sick of you acting like everything I do is fine, and agreeing with everything I say, because I know you don't! I know you weren't _'alright' _with what I said, I know you don't like the way I acted today, so stop pretending like you don't care!"

"Hawke! This _is _caring! If I was pretending not to care I wouldn't even ask!"

"No, this is _lying._ You don't _lie _when you care!" And that's why Hawke always lied to him. She was _so _looking forward to being done with him for the night.

"What did I lie about? I don't care about what you said, because I know you said it when you were upset, and I _do _want to know why. Why can't you accept kindness?" Anders argued.

"Because people aren't nice, Anders! Not unless they want something! I just haven't figured out what the hell it is that you want!" Which was a lie, Hawke knew exactly what Anders wanted, she wasn't an idiot, "And too bad, I'm not fucking talking about my _feelings _with you!"

"You're right, Hawke, I do want something, I _want _you to be happy. You don't have to talk about it, just know that I'm here for you, like you've been here for me." Anders stepped precariously close to her.

"I- ugh, I'll see you later Anders." Hawke turned away.

"Wait, Hawke, what about that potion I have for you?"

"I'd rather take alcohol than magic, I'm sorry." Hawke sighed, and they parted ways there.

* * *

><p>"God, Isabela, I am so sick of him and all his mage bullshit!" Hawke vented, sitting in the two-twin room they had shared since they found themselves stranded in Kirkwall.<p>

"Dear, that's not mage bullshit, that's man bullshit." Isabela corrected as she sipped from her tankard.

"I so don't care." Hawke gulped down some ale, "I wish he would just leave me alone, I have no reason to consort with him anymore." Another gulp, "I got what I wanted," Gulp again, "he got what he wanted," A final gulp and a long pause, "why can't he just go back to wherever his stupid, fucking mage-ass came from!"

"Because he hasn't gotten _all _that he wants and you keep leading him on! And why does it always have to be mages with you? Normal people can be bitches too." This wasn't the first time Hawke had thrown a fit about Anders, it wasn't first time she had thrown a fit about mages, but it was the first time she had done both, while drunk, right before bed. Isabela didn't care, of course, she was usually the one Hawke vented to, but at this hour?

"Let me tell you something, Isabela, not all bad people are mages, but all mages _are _bad people." Hawke shook her head and laid down.

"What about Bethany?" Isabela asked.

"Shut up, you. She's dead. She doesn't count." Hawke said as she drifted off.

* * *

><p>"And where are <em>you <em>going this early in the morning, Hawke? Don't you have your usual hangover to sleep off? It isn't even noon!" Varric ambushed Hawke on her way out of the Hanged Man.

"Balls, Varric! I'm not totally useless this early! Besides, I _always _have some level of hangover, it's just that after all these years it's only a dull throb." Hawke defended herself with a firm hand on his shoulder.

"Ah, I always like to blame that on Bianca's nagging. I see you're much more cheery than I heard you were yesterday." Varric said in a statement that sounded more like a question.

"Shit, who the hell do you talk to? I haven't even been here for more than 10 hours, does news really travel that fast in this city?"

"Does when you're me, albeit this time it actually _wasn't _Isabela, seeing as she's still passed out." Varric nodded as Hawke sat with him.

"Oh, does that little harlot talk about me? I should've known."

"No, why would that little harlot talk about a bitter, briny bitch like you?" Isabela had this terrible habit of showing up at the most inopportune times.

"Because I'm fucking fabulous, and sexy, you can't forget sexy." Hawke smiled back up at her.

"Well, I'll give you that." Isabela winked at Hawke and took her seat as well.

"Wait a minute, Hawke, don't you want to know who blabbed on your bad mood?" Varric asked, "I think you'll be relatively surprised."

"Was it Aveline? It's almost always Aveline, and I wasn't in a bad mood, I was determined, there's a difference." Hawke propped herself up on her elbows, cradling her head in her hands, looking rather sleepy.

"That's a bad excuse, you're always determined, but then again, what would I know? I can't even tell the difference between you drunk and you sober." Varric shrugged.

"She's mean when she's drunk." Isabela interjected.

"Oh, like that helps." Varric gave Isabela a sarcastic 'I-can't-believe-you-just-said-that' look.

"No, it's because I'm always just a _little bit _wasted." Hawke smiled over a dubiously acquired flagon of ale.

"I really hope you're kidding." Varric shook his head, "But, if I know you well enough, that's probably at least a little bit true."

"Only a little bit. Now, who is it that came and told the extravagant storyteller that the infamous Hawke was in a foul mood? I'm dying to know." Hawke raised an eyebrow.

"The elf." Varric crossed his arms and let loose a triumphant grin.

"Uh, Varric, do you have any idea how many elves live in this fucking city? Which one?"

"The only one that glows, obviously!" Sometimes Varric swore that Hawke was daft, "He came in looking for you this morning, something about too many bodies to 'chat' at the mansion. I might have told him that you were probably still in bed with Isabela. Ha! The look on his face! I think he got the wrong idea."

"Oh, I wonder why?" Hawke asked sarcastically, "Why would in the world would anyone come by that early? He didn't seem all that thrilled to talk to me in the first place."

"Early bird, I guess, you two are _not _going to get along. He said that the rest of your 'companions' seemed worried about you. I told him that no one worries about Hawke, and that you didn't mind bodies. He's expecting you at the mansion any time now."

"More like 'companions whose names start with the letter A', ugh. Thanks for heading him off Varric, I don't know how long he waited for me the first time he was here, but-"

"Most of the day." Isabela interrupted again.

"_But_," Hawke continued, "I'm glad I didn't walk out here to find him this morning, being blindsided is the last thing I want right now, what with all of Bianca's 'nagging'."

"Sure thing, Hawke, and you might want to hurry, I kind of told him you'd be there at noon, I doubt that he understands that in Hawke time that's way _after_noon."

"Shit! Why didn't you tell me that to begin with?"

"Didn't think it was relevant." Varric joked.

Hawke just looked at him with her mouth hanging open. "You want me to go with you?" Isabela asked.

"Nah, I'll be fine. Besides, what's the worst that could happen?" Hawke shrugged.

"Um, are you forgetting the magical fisting thing?"

"The what?" Varric asked, obviously missing part of the story.

"You tell him all about it, and I'm gonna go." Hawke said as she stood and left them there to chat about the various uses of Fenris's abilities.

* * *

><p>Hawke strode through the hollow echo of the mansion halls, taking note of every corpse she hadn't got to personally fillet. There had only been shades when they arrived, everyone else was already dead. Thinking about it only served to remind Hawke of how much she hated mages though, and she quickly refocused her attention on the dead. "Maker, this place is a mess. A glorious, gorgeous mess!" She muttered to herself as she unceremoniously dug her heel into the groin of one of the fallen slavers.<p>

"I'm glad you think so." Fenris spoke from somewhere off to the side, apparently she had walked in on him without even noticing.

"Shit! Don't do that! Wait, how _did_ you do that? You aren't exactly sneaky." Hawke cocked her head to the side as she turned to face him, standing there with a bottle of deep colored wine.

"You were quite occupied, it was not difficult." Fenris drank deep from the bottle, "Agreggio Pavali, there are six bottles in the cellar. Danarius had me serve it to his guests, my appearance intimidated them." It made a sickening noise as he flung the bottle into the wall, and Hawke's mouth gaped open at the sight, "At least I can still take pleasure in the small things."

She shook her head, grieving for the wine, "As long as there's more, a little early to be drinking though, isn't it?"

"And you haven't been?" Fenris asked taking a seat and motioning Hawke to take her's, which she did.

"Do I really reek of it that badly? I thought the piss smell would cover it up."

Fenris smiled, she was far more light-hearted today. "No, just a lucky guess. I- I've been meaning to ask, before you get into whatever you wanted to talk about, how _did _you know that I used to be a slave?"

"Well," Hawke sighed, "my first tip-off was the glowing blue lines all over you. In my experience, if you don't what it is or where it came from, it's from the Imperium."

"As true a statement as I've ever heard." Fenris nodded.

"And elves that aren't mages don't really have much of a chance at getting out of there peacefully. I have to admit, it threw me off when I thought you were a slaver yourself, I've never seen an _elf _run slaves. That is if you don't count that nasty ring that was in Denerim when Isabela and I were there."

"You are observant. Do you ever want to return to your home, to Fereldan?" Fenris's voice was tinged with some sort of hopeful longing, the need for a home.

"Contrary to popular belief, I'm not _actually _Fereldan." Hawke explained, "Isabela and I just showed up at the right time, we sailed off from Denerim and ran into a very, unfortunate situation. It just so happens that I look enough like one them that everyone just assumed. I went along with it, I know enough about the place to pass for a native, and it's far nicer than the truth."

"Oh? And the truth is?" Fenris questioned.

"A story for when I know you better. We both have trust issues no doubt, so perhaps," Hawke paused for a moment, "perhaps we can do this, I ask a question, you answer, you ask a question, I answer. But if either of us suspects a lie, game over."

Fenris puzzled this over, it seemed reasonable enough, and he was fairly good at weeding out lies. "I, think that is a wise idea. May I start?"

"As long as you don't ask the same question, and you realize that I rarely let anyone go before me." Hawke smiled the same devious smile that she wore so often.

"Alright. Athenril mentioned that you had a sister when you worked for her, but you didn't mention her coming with you from Denerim, what happened to her?"

"Starting off with a tough one, 'eh? Nothing about my favorite color, or what kind of flowers I like? Oh well, I suppose I could tell you that." Hawke braced herself for the memory, "My sister's name was Bethany, she died on an expedition we took to the Deep Roads not long after we got here. I try not to talk about her, she was a mage, and with all my opinions on them I'd rather not think about it. Now, did you have any siblings?"

"I'm sorry." Fenris tilted his head to Hawke, "I do not remember, the first thing I recall is receiving these markings. Aside from your sister's death, how did your expedition go?"

"Oh?" Hawke replied, assuming Fenris's family had been yet another casualty of magic, "Like shit. We got absolutely nothing but sore feet and blood-soaked clothes. Do they hurt? I mean, I assume they have to, lyrium isn't all that forgiving."

"Yes, they do, after all these years it is more a dull throb though. What are yo-" Hawke cut into Fenris's question to laugh quite heartily, "What's so funny?"

"I was just telling Varric before I left that after all these years my constant hangover is more of a 'dull throb'. Do you know where you're from?" Hawke giggled a little as she thought about her conversation with Varric.

"That wasn't my question!" Fenris objected.

"Too bad, you asked, and I answered." Hawke smirked at her small triumph.

"Fine." Fenris conceded, "I was told that I am from Seheron, though I do not remember it. Why do you always have a hangover? Do you really drink that much?"

"Yes, I do. My life is shit, or it was shit, and then it got better, and then turned to shit again. It's like everything I do comes back to laugh in my face with a great big 'fuck you, Hawke'. So I drink." Hawke was unusually happy, talking about her life wasn't on her agenda most of the time, it was kind of nice when she wasn't the only one talking. "Are you ever going to go there, if only just to see where you're from?"

"I, do not know how to respond to that, it sounds familiar though." Fenris paused for a moment to reflect, "I don't see the point in going there, it is not the home I remember. If I were to return to my home it would be the Imperium, not Seheron. Are you ready to tell me where you're from?"

"Yes. Was Fenris always your name?" Hawke waited for the backlash, which she received.

"Wait a minute! You didn't answer the question."

"Yes I did, you asked if I was _ready_ to tell you, you did not ask me _to_ tell you." Hawke's grin grew wider.

"You," Fenris let out a defeated sigh, "You are far too good at this."

"I am indeed," Hawke said, "Bethany learned the game on a trip she once took to the Fade, though she never told me _how _she learned it. It was how we exchanged information most of the time, neither of us were very good at mindless conversation. Come now, though, answer the question!"

"I do not know if I like that or not, but I suppose it's not magic itself. No, my name was not always Fenris, Danarius gave the name to me, his 'little wolf', but I do not know what my name was before." Fenris leaned forward and spoke slowly, ready to finally unravel the mystery of Hawke's homeland, "Now, where are you really from?"

"Qunandar. In Par Vollen."

"I- was certainly not expecting that." Fenris stated, truly surprised.

"No one ever is, apparently all that Par Vollen is supposed to contain is Qunari, which, for the most part, is true. That's why I was raised to be a part of the Qun." Hawke looked fondly on that part of her life, but after that... "Couldn't you change your name, now that you are free of him?"

"_You _were part of the Qun? No- wait, that's not my question. Yes, I could, but I do not know what I would ever change it to. Do you still consider yourself to be part of the Qun, or are you Tal-Vashoth?

"I did not leave the Qun by choice, I was raised and lived as any Qunari would until my capture. In the eyes of the Qun, I am dead, I fell in battle. I no longer have a place among them, but I am _not _Tal-Vashoth." Hawke almost didn't like the turn this conversation had taken, but she knew that it had to be. "Do you consider yourself to be a wolf?"

"I do not know, I suppose I do, but certainly not a little one." Hawke laughed at this before Fenris continued, "I do not know exactly which question to ask first, I have several." While Fenris was in thought, Hawke spoke.

"And I don't think I have any more, so, is there any more of that wine? I'll answer questions for wine." Hawke smiled wide at him.

"I do, and I think this is a worthy cause to give up a bottle for." It was a few moments before Fenris returned, but as soon as he had handed over the bottle he wasted no time, "Where were you captured, and by whom?"

"In a battle on Seheron, I was the only human among the ranks, so I was a rather large target, apparently Qunari slaves are far harder to control. I was only 18, the Qun sees no age, only whether you are fit for battle, the younger the better though, right?"

"You, you were a slave?" This seemed very odd to Fenris, almost as though it were too perfect. She was slave? And she was a part of the only non-mage people he had ever had any real knowledge of?

"Oh, don't look so shocked, there are more escaped slaves out there than you'd think. That's why there are so many bounty hunters. Besides, I wasn't a slave very long. I had a disobedient streak, I bowed to _nothing_ but the Qun, now I bow to no one but myself." She smiled inwardly.

"Why can't you go back? Surviving wounds grave enough to cause capture would be something honored, not shunned. I am not surprised you were a warrior though, even if you are a woman, you are not of the kossith race. Did you lose your blade?"

"No, far worse, I lost my mage." Hawke laughed, a sweet, low laugh.

"You were arvaarad? That is... honorable."

"And ironic. At least that's what the slavers told me. I controlled mages only to be ruled by one, well, several, I bounced around."

It was Fenris's turn to laugh, "Do you still speak the language?"

"Of course, but, at the same time, no, I don't. It was, forced out of me, for lack of a better term. I was not allowed to speak it."

"Oh, I understand." And Fenris did, all too well, "Do you think you ever will again?"

"Maybe," Hawke mused, "I still think with Qunari words, but it is in pieces, it would be quite the interesting endeavor."

"You should try."

"I think I will, do you speak any? Living so close to them you must have picked something."

"I do, quite a bit, actually. Danarius dealt with Qunari often, I suppose that is why I was skeptical when you first said that you were once of the Qun, you do not act it."

"I learned of a world outside the Qun, and I like it much more."

"Wait," Fenris stopped, noticing quite the hole in her story, "where does your sister fit into all this?"

"She- She was not my sister by blood, unlike you, I was not strong enough to escape the Imperium on my own. My fourth master refused to give up on me, so I stayed with him for some time, I met two other slave women, both mages, and we escaped together. Bethany was one of them. They were the first two people to show me the world beyond the militaristic discipline of the Qun." Hawke explained, her face masking some secret sorrow.

"Did your fourth master give you your name? The Qun would have just called you Arvaarad."

"No, actually, they quite liked calling me Arvaarad. I took the name from Bethany's family, we went to stay with them after we escaped." Hawke looked down and shook her head, "It was their family name."

"You must have respected them. What about Isabela then?"

"I did. Oh, she and I are not 'together'. Varric only hinted that to be cruel, he likes jokes." Hawke quickly spoke.

"I was just going to ask how you met her, but, that is good to know, too."

"Ah, I feel kind of silly now. Oh well!" Hawke dismissed her hasty mistake, "After two years with the women I came to know as sisters, we, uh, we ran into trouble again. Isabela found Bethany and I waist-deep in the guts of bounty hunters, quite like the ones we fought yesterday, but far more numerous. We were in Minrathous, it was not our first encounter with them, but it was the last."

"Why in the world would you go to Minrathous, the heart of the Imperium, when you were running from bounty hunters?" Fenris asked, incredulous.

"We weren't running _from_ them, we were running _towards_ them, but, that is a story for another time."

"I do not understand you, but I suppose not many do. I have to admit, your Qunari background does explain your bluntness, at the very least. Did your 'running towards' them have anything to do with the other woman?"

"No, she is dead, or at least we assumed so. I would prefer not to talk about it any more though, I have an appointment to keep with a tall glass bottle." Hawke smiled and stood.

"It was good getting to know you, Hawke, I think it will be easier to work with you knowing more about you." Fenris nodded to her as she turned to leave.

"As it is with you. And don't you dare tell anyone else we had this long, drawn-out conversation. Isabela is the only one that knows that even knows where I'm from." Hawke warned.

"Varric hasn't ferreted it out by now? He seems the nosy type."

Hawke laughed yet again, "Panahedan, Fenris."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Alright, I'm usually pretty confident in my writing, but I'm taking a big leap with this one, I hope it worked. If it didn't, please tell me, I don't want to write anything that no one likes. (I won't take it personally.) I've purposely left out information (there has to be plot twists!), such as who Malcom is (and yes, that _is _after who you think it is) and who the other woman was. And don't worry, it's not going to be all about Qunari, in fact, there won't be a whole lot of focus on it after this, there might be one chapter dealing with the end of Act 2 though. If you liked it, tell me that too! This is obviously not going to go by the game's story, because the relic was never found, which means no super-crazy Meredith. Since there was no fleeing from Lothering, there was also no amulet, which means no Merril, but she may make an appearance if I find a place. And sorry for my super long Author's Notes, I just can't stop talking. Oh, and I really need a beta, my little mistakes are making me RAGE. Message me about it if you're interested. :)


	3. My Final Demon

**A/N: **Alright, I said there wouldn't be a lot more Qunari, but it was kind of necessary. There's a translator down at the bottom for anything you may not understand! I tried to balance funny with serious though. I was going to do flashbacks in italics, but I just couldn't bring myself to, it should be rather obvious though. I've tried to make this Hawke an evolving character, which I hope is shown well enough. Oh, and on a side note, the more I think about it, the more I realize that I _hate _mages. My first two playthroughs they were fine, but the more I played, the more I hated them. And I mean hate, like, Fenris level hate. Like, I want to find a reason to kill Anders hate, this story isn't about him anyway. Any ideas appreciated. Love ya'll. (I did _not _just say ya'll.) Enjoy!

* * *

><p>There was a small, tight-knit village that lay near the tip of the inlet between the Imperium and the Anderfels. It had no name and smelled of the sea. The houses were tiny, minimalistic, there were no resources to waste on frivolity. It had taken the three days to get there, they were exhausted and still stained with the blood of their master. Heads turned as they walked the dilapidated excuses for streets, and eventually someone recognized the native amongst the trio.<p>

"Bethany? Bethany, is that really you?" A tiny old woman squinted up at the mage, sitting in front of a house with no distinguishing features. One of the other two stepped forward to protect her from the unknown.

"It is alright, she means no harm, this is my grandmother." Bethany smiled for the first time in days, "Yes, Sophia, I'm home."

The wrinkled woman looked her over for a moment, "Well then, I'd better get your mother." Sophia slammed her fist against the house, "Leandra! Leandra, get out here!" she shrieked.

"What is it, mother, are those kids bothering you ag-" Leandra stared ahead in disbelief at the three. "Malcom!" She called back into the house, "Malcom, come here!" Leandra's voice started to crack as she stepped forward to touch her daughter's face. "You're _really_ here, aren't you?"

"Well, of course she is, I told you she would come home. Our daughter is far too strong to fall to the Imperium." Malcom said as he stepped around his wife to pull them both into a long, drawn-out, and much deserved hug.

It took them several minutes to get over the crying part of the reunion and the second girl was looking quite impatient, but the third stood stock-still and emotionless. Sophia cut in, "Well, if you all are done I'm certain that Bethany and her friends are rather hungry, and that one's got a nasty hole in her side that you ought to take care of, Malcom."

"What?" Bethany asked, turning to her friend, "Why didn't you tell me? Father, can you help her?"

"Well, come on in, we'll take a look." Malcom nodded and gestured everyone inside, everyone but Sophia anyway. "Can you pull your shirt up for me?" He asked when the group had sat at the dining table.

The young woman didn't understand what he asked, so she growled at him as he approached. "_Calm_ yourself, he only wants to help." Bethany said as she pulled her shirt up to reveal a gaping wound, "My lord, how are you still walking?"

"I've got my work cut out for me, I see." As Malcom started to heal the woman he tried to make small talk, "It's quite a feat that you've survived this long with an injury like this, what's your name, girl?"

She just stared at him, watching his hands, and Bethany answered for her, "She doesn't talk much, she really can't speak our language at all. She knows a few words though, her name is Arvaarad."

Malcom stopped, "A Qunari mage-handler? Does she know what we are?"

"Yes, Father, please, just help her! We never would have made it without her, she's not an enemy!" Bethany pleaded.

"Kost! Maaras shokra." Arvaarad told Malcom, who apparently understood and returned to his healing.

"Well," Malcom said with light laugh, "at least this explains how you've made it this far, anyone without the discipline you surely have would have collapsed long ago."

"Can I teach her how to speak with us?" Leandra asked Bethany.

"I think she'd like that." Bethany said, looking at the gruesome wound that was slowly thatching itself together.

"So, Arvaarad, do you trust my Bethany?" Malcom asked with only the slightest bit of hostility.

"Bethany... Kadan. I," Arvaarad motioned to herself as she searched for the right word, "protect."

Malcom smiled, aware of the seriousness of Arvaarad's statement, the Qunari did not not hand out titles like Kadan without reason. He had studied the Qunari, and this simple word was the foundation of the friendship he and Arvaarad would come to share. Over the time they were together they would discuss the facets of their cultures and their many differences.

"Bethany," Leandra asked as she started to prepare a meal, "who is this?" She smiled at the other mage.

"Oh! This is-"

* * *

><p>"Hawke!" Varric yelled from his normal seat at their designated table in the Hanged Man.<p>

"What the fuck do you want, Varric?" Hawke snapped.

"Hey! I've been trying to get your attention for five minutes now, don't bitch at me!"

"Have not!" She argued.

"Really though, he has." Aveline confirmed over her cards.

"Fine." Hawke muttered, "That still doesn't answer my question, what on earth do you want?"

"By the Stone, Hawke, what's got your panties in such a knot today?"

"It's more about what's _not _in her panties." Isabela interjected, "Seriously, Hawke, it's been _months_, why haven't you tried to hit that?"

"Shut the fuck up, Isabela." Hawke answered.

"Pull back the claws, Hawke." Aveline added with a sarcastic over-tone.

"Oh, you cram it too, Aveline."

"I will not. For once I agree with Isabela, you have been absolutely unbearable lately, and the only time you aren't a crazy bitch is when Fenris is around." She pointed out.

"Can you not talk about this right now? I'm sitting right here." A badly rejected Anders asked.

"Don't even get me started on you." Aveline said. Anders rolled his eyes. Hawke had finally told him that nothing was ever going to transpire between them, only Isabela seemed to notice that it was the first stop she made after speaking with Fenris. She had decided that if Anders was going to be upset about it she could handle it, or kill him, whichever. Hawke really didn't care.

"You all are just going to have to fucking nut-up and deal with it, if you keep bitching at me I will be even more insufferable than I normally am. Do you understand?" Hawke glared at the table's occupants.

"Yes, yes, we get it, don't piss off the queen of sexual tension any more than we have to." Isabela waved her off over her ale.

"The queen of what?" Fenris asked, adopting Hawke's penchant for timely entrances.

"Antiva. Didn't you know? I'm quite famous, also dead as of last week." Hawke smiled.

"_You _were the Queen of Antiva?" Varric mockingly asked.

"Of course I was, but those nasty Crows have this terrible habit of trying to kill of royalty, so I faked my death. I should have spent the fortune to pay them off. Do you know they charge far, far more _not _to kill someone?" Hawke shrugged.

"Oh, you are so full of shit, Hawke." Aveline said as Fenris finally sat down with them, smirking at Hawke's odd sense of humor. Anders made a point not to even look at him.

"Am not, I'm dead serious."

"The Queen of Antiva hasn't been assassinated, she's not you, and you don't have a fortune." Aveline corrected.

"Oh, no, you're right, _that_ was all crap, but that bit about the Crows was totally true."

"I'll believe it." Aveline said, condescendingly shaking her head.

"They'll kill you whether you believe it or not." Isabela added.

"Alright, alright, enough, I was _trying _to talk to our fearless leader." Varric injected, irritated.

"Yes, yes, what is it?" Hawke asked.

"There's a merchant named Javaris that wants your help, something about Qunari explosives."

"Ah, which one? The Qunari have quite a few."

"I'm not going to ask how you know that... It was like mat-stop or rat-crop or some shit, I'm just a messenger. He's camped near the Coast."

"Ugh, fine, we'll go." Hawke conceded.

"Not me," Anders said, "I have work to do." He stood up with a loud clatter and left.

"Gawd, he's _still _butt-hurt about it, Hawke. Can't you just go have some pity-sex with him or something?"

"Basra Vashedan!" Hawke muttered under her breath, "No, he's never bathed, and more importantly he's Bas Sa- a mage!"

"Wh- what did you say?" Aveline asked.

"I've been trying to pick up a new language, assume nothing." Hawke covered with a scowl.

"No, I don't really care about that, what does 'bas-vas-don'," Aveline struggled to repeat Hawke, "mean?"

"Yeah, Hawke, what _does_ that mean?" Varric asked. Hawke made a rather angry face, "Alright, alright, forget we asked." He raised his stumpy hands in surrender.

* * *

><p>"You know, Hawke," Isabela said as they suited up for the trip in their room, "those slip-ups of yours are getting more and more prevalent. I'm surprised it took them this long to say anything."<p>

"With the Qunari presence in this city it is bound to come out sooner or later. If we have to visit the Arishok to deal with this gaatlok mess it will undoubtedly be known." Hawke said with a rare ton of seriousness.

"So you _do _know what it's called! I figured you did. It's been like, 10 years, is he really gonna remember?"

"Of course, and it's _incredibly_ dangerous in hands that don't know how to use it, and yes, undoubtedly."

"Well, that wasn't really my point, I'm glad you know what we're dealing with though. I usually like things that go boom, but if _you _think it's too dangerous..." Isabela trailed off.

"It does make for quite a pretty boom though." Hawke smiled, "The gaatlok is how the cannons on the dreadnaught hit us from so far away. I digress, what _was _your point?"

"Well fuck, that explains it. I still can't believe you helped me steal that from your own people." Isabela snickered to herself, "My point was that you're speaking Qunari again, I don't mind, but what happened? You used to flinch whenever you said anything that even _sounded_ Qunari."

"They aren't my people anymore. I... came to a realization. 'There comes a time when you must turn and face the tiger.' I've been avoiding something that is a part of me because I still cling to bad memories. I killed Vanard, he can't electrocute me every time I call something Dathrasi or quote the Qun." Hawke's sudden frown quickly turned to a smile by the end of her statement.

"You, you never told me _that_, Hawke. Wasn't that the _only_ language you spoke?" Isabela asked in surprise.

"It was, but enough! We have work to do!" Hawke said as she laced up the last part of her boots.

"Yes, yes, don't remind me. Hey, was that line about the tiger from the Qun?"

"No, that was from Fenris."

"Oh, is that so?" Isabela narrowed her eyes and smiled suggestively before she continued, "Does he know about this Qunari/slave/revenge-driven maniac thing?"

"All but that last part."

"You're really quite fond of him, aren't you?"

"I am, he's straightforward and he doesn't lie."

"Good luck then, love, it's about time you did something for yourself." An awkward silence fell on them as Isabela tried to decide whether or not to ask her next question, she decided on yes. "Are you still not going to tell me what you and Bethany were looking for?"

"Not until I find it." Hawke's tone grew angry.

"And if you don't?" Isabela asked, irritated at Hawke's constant determination.

"Then I die searching."

"What could _possibly_ be worth throwing the rest your life away for?"

"Parshaara! This conversation is finished."

"What did you just call me?" Isabela half-shouted.

Hawke just laughed at her, their relationship mended despite the argument.

* * *

><p>"So, do we have a deal or not?" Javaris rubbed his hands together, he could already taste the profits.<p>

"You sir, are a fucking idiot." Was Hawke's curt reply, "The Qunari are _never _going to give you the gaatlok. You probably just made up this whole thing. I'll kill the Tal-Vashoth, but I hope when you go to collect your 'reward' that the Arishok chews you up and spits you out."

"I agree." Fenris added.

"Bah! I don't care what you dog-lords and knife-ears think, if you want your money, do what I asked. I'll be in the Qunari compound when you're finished." Javaris scampered back into his tent.

"Wait, Hawke, aren't we going the wrong way?" Isabela asked as they left the campsite, "The Tal-Va-whatever are that way!"

"No, as much as I hate to say it, if we're going to take down a band of Tal-Vashoth, we're going to need Anders." Hawke admitted.

* * *

><p>"Hawke," Fenris stopped her outside the compound while Aveline and Anders were bickering about something Templar related. Varric and Isabela had already slunk back to the Hanged Man, "are you certain you want to go in there? The Arishok forgets nothing and you still don't know what happened to your charges. I can go get the payment if you wish."<p>

"No, this is my final demon, at least the last one I can put a name to. I had faith in my charges, it'll work out."

"And if it doesn't?"

Hawke shrugged her shoulders, "Well, fuck all then. They aren't after you three, all I have to do is disappear in a cloud of smoke and hope they don't send the Beresaad after me." Hawke grabbed her (probably, no, most definitely, alcohol-filled) flask from her belt and downed a long, long drink.

"Doesn't the Beresaad 'answer questions', why would they be sent?" Fenris asked, confused.

"To answer the question of where the hell I am, the Qun takes fugitives very seriously."

"I can see that. Are you ready?"

"As I'll ever be."

"Do you think you should tell them before we go in?" Fenris nodded towards Anders and Aveline.

"No, I can't wait to see the looks on their faces." Hawke turned to the other two, still bickering, "Aveline! Anders! Shut your stupid fucking mouths and come on!"

"Fine!" They said in unison.

As they strode into the compound Hawke stood a little bit straighter, held her head a little higher, and all of her companions noticed. "Ah, Hawke!" A frightened Javaris called when he saw her, obviously having been trying to negotiate with the Arishok, "Perfect timing!" When she got close enough he leaned in to angrily whisper to her, "Help me out here or you don't get paid!"

"No." Hawke said in a far more commanding voice than she usually carried, her change in character so drastic that Anders and Aveline stared in disbelief. "I told you this would happen and it has. Pay me for the task you hired me for, or I take it from your flesh."

Javaris looked around nervously for a moment, probably calculating his chances of being able to escape her, and the rest of them, successfully. "Ah, bitch-born! Here's your blood money! You fucking horn-freaks and sons-of-bitches and Stone-blasted, mother-fucking..." He trailed off during his stomping retreat from the compound.

Hawke and her team turned to leave before the Arishok's command echoed off the walls, "Arvaarad, halt! I have not forgotten you." It took Anders and Aveline a moment to realize he was talking to Hawke, but she and Fenris turned immediately.

"Shanedan, Arishok." Hawke bowed.

The Arishok stood from his make-shift throne and prowled over to Hawke, standing several feet taller than she, "You live. Asit tal-eb."

They stared at each other for a long time, it seemed like forever to Fenris, he was certain that the Arishok was going to attack at any second, but instead the two spoke in unison: "Ataash varin kata." And for a moment Hawke was once again Arvaarad.

"Uh, Fenris, do have any idea what's going on?" Aveline asked in hushed tone.

"In the end lies glory." Fenris said, only partially ignoring her.

"The Qun understood by an elf, what an odd city this is." The Arishok said before he turned back to Hawke, "Arvaarad, you hunt Tal-Vashoth, you still follow the commands of the Qun, even though you are dead. You are Qunoran Vehl."

"Wh- what?" Anders asked.

"Silence, Bas Saarebas!" He shouted, and Anders quite intelligently listened, though totally unaware of what the Arishok had called him.

"Maaras shokra, Arishok." Hawke and the Arishok shared yet another long silence.

"Are you aware of what your return means, Arvaarad? Do you know the fate you face?"

"No. I do not know what became of my Karataam."

"Then you must hold yourself in high regard, coming here without knowing whether or not you face execution. Your Karataam survived the battle."

There was a deafening silence and all eyes lay on Hawke. She stood without fear, waiting for the verdict. If her Saarebas did not take their own lives as soon as she fell, then she had failed in her duty to the Qun, and she would be killed. There would be no compromise, no special circumstance, it all came down to whether or not her Saarebas truly saw her as their Arvaarad, if they would rather die than risk falling to what lie inside themselves. Hawke was faced with a moment of doubt as the impasse dragged on.

"Your Saarebas, did not. They called fire and charged your captors, their final sacrifice in the name of the Qun." The Arishok finally spoke. Fenris and Hawke both let out an audible sigh of relief.

"Wait up a minute, Hawke, isn't that what he called me?" Anders asked after spending several seconds daftly trying to comprehend its meaning.

"No, you are not honorable enough to be Saarebas." Hawke's blunt reply hit Anders like a brick.

"Spoken like a true Arvaarad." Fenris added with an approving nod.

The Arishok snorted, "What odd company you keep. Panahedan, Arvaarad. May you find peace in death."

"Panahedan, Arishok. May _you_ find what you seek." Hawke said as she and Fenris walked away, Aveline and Anders quickly following.

* * *

><p>They returned to the Hanged Man, their base-of-operations, per say, for the impending questioning of 'Arvaarad.' "So, Hawke," Aveline started, fuming, "is it safe to assume that you <em>aren't <em>Fereldan?"

"Uh..." Hawke acted like she was thinking, "yeah... I'd say that's a safe bet."

"No! No more of your sarcasm, Hawke! This is serious!"

"What, Aveline? What the fuck do you want me to say? I answered your question."

"I want you to tell me why you lied to us." Aveline spoke for the group.

"I didn't _technically_ lie."

"Yes, you did! I even asked if you wanted to go back to Fereldan and you said yes!" Aveline countered.

"You didn't say go back _home_, you just said back to Fereledan." Hawke corrected her.

"Ah, but when _I_ asked 'Don't you miss the life you had back home?', right after that, you said yes!" Anders argued.

"You didn't specify where my home was." Hawke said, Fenris was reminded of his first talk with Hawke, Master of Wording, and had trouble not snickering.

"Then why does _Fenris_ know?" Anders asked with more than a little jealousy, he just didn't know how to move on.

"Because he asked." Hawke said, matter-of-fact.

"Oh, you have got to be fucking kidding me!" Aveline bellowed.

"Ah, cut her some slack, you two," Varric cut in, "would you want to go around telling people that you're a Qunari mage-wrangler turned slave, turned fugitive, turned, whatever the fuck she is now?"

Hawke turned to Isabela, mouth agape, "Oh, fuck you! I thought we were leaving _that_ part out!"

"Get off it, Hawke, it would've come out eventually."

"No, no it wouldn't have. No one is looking for me, there's no reason the word _slave _ever had to be a part of this."

"Fenris was a _slave,_" Isabela mocked, "and he didn't have a problem with everyone knowing, why are you bitching about this?"

"Because Fenris is a _man._" Hawke said through clenched teeth, "All _I'm_ going to get is pity, and I don't need your fucking pity!" She turned and pointed to Aveline, "See, Isabela, it's all over her face! And you!" Hawke glared at Anders, "you just heard 'mage-wrangler', yet all you're thinking about is what _must_ have happened to me as a _slave._ I can see it in your eyes."

In a fit of rage, Hawke threw her mug at the wall, ale flying every which-way as she stormed out of the tavern. "Hawke, wait!" Anders called and stood to follow her.

Isabela stopped him, "Oh, no you don't! You have _no _idea what that woman has been through, you try to comfort her and she will quite literally cut you to pieces."

"I-" Anders started to argue, "I'll be at the clinic, can someone come tell me when you find her?"

"Sure thing, Blondie." Varric agreed as Anders left. "And where are you going, Broody?

"He doesn't have any idea, but I do. Besides, it's my cellar she's probably raiding." Fenris said with a sad shake of his head.

"Fenris," said Isabela, pausing to make some decision, "hurry. She doesn't know how to handle things like this without alcohol and she'll be drinking as fast as she can." Fenris nodded and left.

"So," Aveline said in the sudden silence, "she was Qunari? Never struck me as the type."

"Born and raised. Captured on Seheron. Escaped. It's a pretty cut-and-dry story." Isabela said.

"I should've guessed," Varric added, "the more I think about it the more sense it makes. But, where does Bethany fit into all this? No way a girl that sweet was Qunari."

"She fits in somewhere between captured and escaped." Isabela spent the next few minutes telling her colleagues the story of Hawke.

* * *

><p>"Malcom! Malcom!" One of the village's children came frantically pounding on their door.<p>

"What? What is it, Charles?" Leandra answered the door.

"Oh, oh miss Leandra! There's some nasty, nasty looking men here, swords and staffs and chains and- and-" Charles panted, out of breath from running across the village, "And they asked about Bethany and the other girls! Samantha wouldn't tell them, so they _killed_her! So we had to tell them, we just- just- I'm so sorry!"

"Shh, child, run to your family, this is not your fault." Leandra remained frighteningly calm as she entered the room where the rest of the family was dining. "They've come for them." She told Malcom.

Arvaarad remained ready for battle at all times, and the mages only needed to grab their weapons. "Leandra, take him and run, we fight." Malcom told her before they went to face the enemy. Leandra wanted to argue, but she knew there was no one else in the village that could hold them off, she couldn't risk his life.

Within seconds there was fire and ice everywhere, and a pillar of inferno had engulfed the center force of the hunters. The battle was a frenzied mess of shouts and blood, but when the smoke cleared, only two stood.

"_No!_" Bethany screamed at her father's corpse, falling to her knees. She called all the healing magic she could, though it was not much, not with how drained she was, but before she could start a strong hand gripped her arm and pulled at her. Bethany looked back at a strong, stoic face, lacking any visible compassion. "No, Arvaarad! No! I _cannot_ leave him!"

"Dead! Malcom, is, dead!" Arvaarad still spoke slowly, she was a hard learner. "More come." She pulled on Bethany's arm again, this time Bethany stood.

"Wait, wait, what about-" Bethany tried to ask, looking on the body of her other fallen friend.

"Dead! All dead! We run."

"I can't! I can't leave my father like this!" Bethany started to cry.

"Arvaarad promised Malcom, _protect_ Kadan. Come!" She pleaded, and Bethany realized that this _was_ her way of showing compassion, by honoring her promise to Bethany's father.

It would be 7 years before Arvaarad realized how dire a mistake she had made.

* * *

><p>"Hawke! Stop this! Do not make me force that away from you." Fenris shouted at her in the dim light of the cellar. Hawke was sitting on a crate, nursing a large, nameless bottle. Her head spun with the mistakes of her past, screaming the mantras of all her broken promises.<p>

"No. I am not Hawke. I failed '_Hawke_'. I do not deserve such a name." Hawke didn't even look up at him.

"You are honorable, determined, honest, isn't that what Hawke means to you?" Fenris asked, stepping closer.

"You know, it'll be 7 years in a week, 7 years that I've called myself that. I _failed,_ Fenris, the only promise I ever made Malcom, Bethany's father, was that I would protect her. I couldn't stop them from killing him, or Leandra, or Sophia, or anyone else in that village, but I _promised_ I would protect Bethany. She was Kadan, and now I can't even keep my last promise to _her_." Hawke's voice cracked and she took another long drag from the bottle.

Fenris crouched down to face her, "What are you talking about, Hawke?" He reached out to touch her face, or, to try anyhow.

"Stop, calling me that!" She cried, standing up and balling her fists.

"No." Fenris said, standing again, "You _are_ Hawke, you will always _be _Hawke, and tearing yourself apart like this isn't helping anyone!" Hawke moved to pull the bottle up to her mouth again, "And _stop _drinking!"

Fenris grabbed the bottle, but Hawke had an iron grip, "Fenris, you wouldn't dare." She warned.

"I am far stronger than you." They stared at each other, each waiting for the other to give in, until something broke. Fenris ripped the bottle from her hand and it crashed to the cobblestone floor, leaving yet another stain on the mansion. The momentum caused a rather tipsy Hawke to fall forward, right into an unconventional kiss. The two stood there like that for a long moment, neither of them moving. Neither was certain if they didn't move because they didn't want to, or because they couldn't think of how to deal with the situation when they pulled apart, it was an inevitability though.

"I... uh..." Hawke started to explain what had obviously happened, but something Isabela had said echoed in the back of her head and she attacked him, wrapping her arms around his neck.

Fenris, as reluctant as he was, pulled away from her mouth, but not her hands, "Hawke, you're drunk. You don't know if you want this."

"Fenris, I'm _always _drunk." She said, trying to kiss him again.

She smelled like fresh earth and alcohol, and she was _so_ warm, it was almost unnatural. "No, Hawke, don't say that."

"I know what I want Fenris, _Hawke _always knows what she wants and she's wanted this for a _long time_." She spoke with an unusually sultry voice, "Just this once, if you don't love it, it never happens again."

"Hawke..." Fenris groaned.

"Don't tell me you don't want this. I've seen you staring at me. Besides, the Qunari are the supreme masters of '_friends_ _with_ _benefits_'." And it was true, _mostly_, the Qunari never mated for something as silly as love.

"You... are impossible to deny."

They were at it long into the night, long after Hawke's buzz wore off, each orgasm melting into the next until they were too tired to move. The lyrium made Fenris's skin icy, but Hawke was always too hot, so they complimented each other. That's why Fenris didn't have to think about how he was going to approach her that morning, he didn't even have to turn over to know that she was already gone.

* * *

><p>"Vashedan!" Hawke yelled as she threw her cards down.<p>

Varric chuckled, "I think I like Qunari Hawke better than regular Hawke."

"Ah, shut the fuck up, you cheating Dathrasi!"

"And what does that one mean again?" Anders asked from the other side of the table, he had been paying an odd amount of attention to her this past week.

"An indulgent beast, a pig." Hawke explained for the third time.

"Oh, oh, look who just walked in!" Isabela exclaimed as she pointed to Fenris, "I mean, I knew Hawke was _good_, but to put you out of commission for a week! Have you even left your house?"

Fenris grew suddenly angry, "You _told _her, Hawke?"

"No. You did. She knew nothing until you asked that."

"Ha! I _knew _something happened!" Isabela called in triumph.

"Really, Fenris, you should have seen that one coming." Varric added.

"Ugh, I have to go." Anders said as he made to leave.

"Come back any time!" Isabela shouted after him, in a ridiculously good mood. "Maker, Fenris, he _really_ doesn't like you."

"I don't like him." Fenris stated.

This was the first time they had seen each other since their night together, not because they didn't want to, they were just busy people. Fenris had to deal with security issues and Hawke was tracking down some elf-woman's son. It wasn't awkward seeing each other again, which both of them thanked the Maker for. They sat and played cards like they usually did, talked about this, that, and the other thing, and everything was just peachy. But, fucking Isabela...

"Happy Birthday, Hawke." She said out of nowhere.

"Oh, it's your birthday?" Varric asked.

"No."

"What do you mean, no? I'm quite certain that today most definitely is your birthday! That's why I made Fenris come! Well, technically _you _made Fenris come, but that's beside the point."

"My god, Isabela, do you _ever _shut up?"

"What? What did I say?"

And Hawke just glared at her.

And glared.

And glared.

And- "Hawke! I think you're causing her brain damage!" Varric accused.

Hawke made a noise in her throat, "Like she _has _a brain."

"Hey! That's not nice! You're supposed to be happy today, today is the same day I met you 7 whole years ago!"

"Fine, fine, I'm happy, can we not talk about this whole birthday business?"

"Suit yourself, I was going to pay for an extravagant night at the Rose, but _no..._"

Hawke just had to giggle, it was impossible for Hawke to be mad at her. "Isabela, you are _such _a tease."

"That's my girl." Isabela winked, "Is there anything you _do_ want to do today?"

"I... yes. There is. I want to go and save the Viscount's son, there's quite a profit to be had."

"That's not fun!"

"Money is. Fighting is. There will undoubtedly be fighting."

"Oh fine. Are you two coming with?" Isabela asked Varric and Fenris.

"Oh yeah, wouldn't miss it." Varric said.

"Of course, you'll need a warrior, you all are so fragile."

"Now _that's_ not nice." Hawke chimed, "We'd better get going, it's a long walk to the Coast."

* * *

><p>"I really hate my name, you know. You and Arvaarad have such pretty names, and she doesn't even realize her name is pretty. Why couldn't I have been named something pretty?" A lanky brunette complained to Bethany.<p>

"Your name is too pretty!" Bethany argued, "At least your name isn't Horton. Or Hagar. Yes, at least it isn't Hagar."

"Well, I supposed I do have that. But really, just listen to it, it's whiny and evil-sounding."

"Not Hagar." Arvaarad said, miming Bethany.

The lanky woman laughed, "Oh, Arvaarad, you don't say much, but when you do... That's why you're my favorite."

"Hey!" Bethany protested, "I'm right here!"

"What? She's your favorite too!" The mage girls laughed at each other, but Bethany knew that the elder of the two cared for Arvaarad in a much, much different way than she did. It was unhealthy, Arvaarad had saved her and she clung to that moment, twisting it into something it was not.

* * *

><p>"Halt!" A shout shook Hawke from her thoughts, "You are in possession of stolen property!"<p>

"Oh, well would you look at that, it seems as though we've walked right into an ambush." She waved at the man on his perch, "Fenris, what on earth do you think we should do?"

"We could kill them." He shrugged, slowly becoming accustomed to the way Hawke did things.

"Ah, we could." Hawke turned her focus back to their attackers, "Any objections, boys?" She called as the battle began.

When it was done with Hawke and Isabela were back-to-back several yards away while Fenris was beating information out of the man who was obviously in charge, Varric trotted over to the two rogues. "Is it just me, or was that _way _too easy?"

"We'll find out soon enough." Hawke said as she gestured to a slowly approaching Fenris.

"It is Hadriana." Hawke's ears twitched. "She is Danarius's apprentice." Hawke's stomach sunk. "She hounded my sleep." Hawke stepped back and looked away from him, she wasn't hearing this. "She denied me my meals and tortured me constantly. She's camped on the Coast, I cannot let her escape me again."

"Well, let's go get her then!" Varric agreed.

"Wait, Hawke, what is the matter?" Fenris questioned Hawke's behavior.

"It is nothing, we should go." Hawke denied, but a single thought rang through her head, the words of a woman she had once taken grievous injuries to save. A woman she had admired.

_'I really hate my name, you know.'_

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **DUN DUN DUN DUN. Sorry, that probably killed the mood. I hope I did a good job piecing things together though. Feedback is always welcome! I have a timeline of how things progressed in Hawke's life, and I found that in the last chapter, when Isabela says '8 years' she should have said 6. It's not that big of a detail, but I thought you should know. I replaced the chapter with a fixed version, but it _did_ say that. If anyone is confused about how things have gone, message me and I'll send you the timeline, I'm not posting it because it seems excessive, but I have no problem handing it out. There are also a few of the Qunari words you may not know, and not want to look up, so, it's time for a vocabulary lesson!

Kost - Peace

Maaras shokra - There is nothing to struggle against

Kadan - That which is held close to the heart

Vashedan - Trash, crap, refuse

Parshaara - Enough

Panahedan - Goodbye

Karataam - A group of Qunari mages and their handlers

Asit tal-eb - It is to be

Qunoran Vehl - One who is an example to others, the Arishok calls her this because another duty of the Arvaarad is to hunt Tal-Vashoth

If you have any questions, concerns, or even suggestions, please tell me!


	4. Hadriana

**A/N:** Alright, here it is! I hope you like it! I always thought that Hadriana was pretty in a really sinister sort of way, and when I got to thinking about her I thought about where she came from, yadda-yadda, and in the end, this was my answer. I have another story where Hawke actually _is_ her biological sister, but it is _really_ dark. And for some reason, Fenris seems really out of character to me in this chapter, so I hope you can forgive me. Anyway, read on!

* * *

><p>If there was anything that Hawke would take with her from the Imperium it would be the smell. She was often blindfolded, seeing as her sight (although hearing came into play quite frequently) was her greatest weapon when she had no blade. Her reflexes were incredible, she did not need the brute strength of a kossith when she had the cunning of a human. She was quick, adept at dodge-and-counter. In fact, Hawke never struck first, she waited for her opponent. If her opponent tried to wait for her, she always outlasted, such was the way of the Qunari. Perseverance. Stamina. Victory. For this to work, for Hawke to be the nearly unbeatable foe in single combat that she was, she needed her eyes. So Varnard took them.<p>

Hawke had spent most of her days in darkness, and in the end the only thing she clearly remembered from the days of her imprisonment was the smell. She could hear the loud hum of unintelligible voices anywhere. She could feel the cold stone of her cell any time she walked outside. She could taste a man forcing himself into her mouth if she so wished to seek it out. But the smell. The smell would never come from anywhere but the Imperium. It was a harsh scent, thick with blood and failure and demons. It was laced with defiance and suffering. It was stitched with the cruel threads of arrogance. It was something she would never forget.

* * *

><p>The group trudged from the ambush site to the slaver den in mute silence. They all watched Hawke's stride with a manner of intensity. Anyone could have figured out that Hawke had lied, but she still stood firm in her stance. <em>"It is nothing." <em>

"Nothing, my ass." Isabela voiced her thought, finally, when they stopped outside the den. She was not going in there without knowing why her constant companion, her only true friend, was spiraling into a pit of despair. Varric saw her as determined, because, in truth, to anyone else that is exactly what it would have looked like. Fenris saw her in a light of confusion, and he was not far from the reality of the situation, but it was Isabela's observation that hit spot on.

Hawke clenched her jaw and the joints in her fingers, so that they looked more like claws. She stood stock-still. She just stared at Isabela.

"We're not going in there until you tell me what's going on, Hawke." Isabela stated, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Well," The sarcastic tone of the true Hawke resurfaced, "we're going to walk into that cavern, kill a whole bunch of nasty-ass slavers, and then we're going to walk out. Does _that_ explain what's going on?"

"Ugh! You are impossible, Hawke! Why can't you just tell me what's wrong? Something is obviously bothering you, you _never _act like this." Isabela said as Varric and Fenris watched their argument in mute silence. They were starting to understand that something actually _was_ wrong, not because Isabela said it was, but because she and Hawke were arguing. The last time she and Hawke argued (in public, anyway) Hawke had thrown things, stormed out, and stolen a substantial amount of wine from Fenris's cellar. Not to mention the ton of sex she had with him.

"No, _you _are impossible, Isabela! I said it is nothing, so leave it the fuck alone!" Hawke shouted.

"No! I know you, Hawke, you are struggling with some sort of demon in that head of yours and you _need_ help. You haven't been like this since you had to kill Bethany!"

Varric and Isabela knew how Bethany had died, but Fenris was struck with a sudden flash of sympathy. _"She was Kadan..." _Hawke did not speak of her often, but when she did it was obvious that she cared about her, and to have to kill your own Kadan... Fenris understood the severity of it, perhaps more than either Varric or Isabela did.

"Shok ebasit hissra. Maraas shokra. There is nothing for me to struggle against, Isabela." Hawke said through her teeth.

"Stop being so cryptic! Can't you just tell me?" Isabela pleaded.

Upon seeing how Hawke struggled to find her next words, Fenris spoke on her behalf, "She means that whatever it is no longer exists, or didn't in the first place. At best it is only a memory, there is nothing she _can_ tell you." He and Hawke shared a moment of mutual appreciation, a silent thank you on Hawke's part. But Hawke's fight to find words had sparked another painful memory.

* * *

><p>"You are <em>nothing<em>, and you will do as I command you to!" A burly man yelled as he slammed a young mage into the wall of a narrow corridor. Attacking her would not be his last mistake, but assuming that Arvaarad would just stand by and watch was. She had no weapon and the man was heavily armored, but he was also distracted by the buckles on his own fauld. It took her only seconds to formulate the only successful plan. She couldn't run straight at him, she couldn't just walk up behind him, in both situations she would be easily flung off for lack of leverage and hold, so she used the short width of the hallway against him.

Her speed and his distraction made it work, in two strides she jumped for the opposing wall, propelling herself off of it to land on his back. She wrapped her legs around his waist and tried to find purchase around his neck, but he threw himself backwards and she was crushed against the wall. Arvaarad was strong though, she would be bruised, but she would _not_ be stopped. In nearly the same moment her hands found what they sought and his neck was snapped in single, swift motion. He fell to the ground and Arvaarad slowly wiped the blood that she had coughed up off her mouth.

"You, you just, _killed _him." The mage spoke in both horror and reverence, rushing forward to hug Arvaarad, which, in this case, she allowed. Arvaarad even did what she had seen Bethany do, she hugged back. It was a rough hug, she had no idea how it actually worked, and when the mage pulled away, sobbing, she was even less sure. "Thank you, you have no idea what this means to me, that you would..." More sobbing, "What- what is your name? I don't even know who you are."

Arvaarad was almost completely unaware of what she had said, the only word she understood was 'name', because it was always the first thing anyone asked her. She had no time to answer though.

"Her name is Arvaarad. She is an ignorant fool who doesn't understand the simplest of words, and she is in a lot of trouble. As are you." Varnard spoke during his entrance from around the nearby corner. He was a ghastly shade of white and his eyes sunk into his skull. His hair was thin and slicked back, his robes hung off his shriveling frame, but he was strong. His _magic_ was strong.

The girls stood still, one out of fear, the other was simply waiting. Arvaarad knew she was in trouble, she knew what awaited her in a dark dungeon cell far away from anyone who cared enough to hear her. "Come." Varnard spoke, one of the few commands she understood, but both girls followed. Arvaarad would not have someone else take her punishment, she held her arm out to halt the younger mage's advance.

"No." She said, and Varnard's face twisted in rage.

"No?" He questioned, "You dare tell _me _no?"

"I..." Arvaarad struggled to find the correct word, she not express herself in the Qunari tongue, "take..."

"Well, spit it out then!" Varnard said with a hefty amount of mocking laughter.

"Place." Arvaarad finished her thought, "I take place."

"You can't!" The other girl frantically whispered, "You don't have to-"

"Calm." Arvaarad repeated something Bethany often told her, placing her hands on the girl's shoulders, "Calm."

"No, you don't need to do this for me, I can-"

"Shut up, girl, she's made her choice. The Qunari are a people of their word, you know." And Varnard laughed again, a sickening noise that would forever resonate in Arvaarad's memory. As the two left, leaving the girl with the corpse of her attacker, Varnard turned to tell her "You have made a powerful ally, Hadriana, powerful and stupid."

* * *

><p>While they fought through the den everyone noticed Hawke's lack of luster. She loved killing slavers, but her heart wasn't in it this time. It was Fenris that pulled her aside while Varric and Isabela looted the bodies of the fallen. They stared at each other for a long moment, Fenris had never seen her like this, and he hated it. It wasn't until he saw her like this, beaten down by an unknown assailant, that he realized how much he cared about her. As amazing as the sex had been, it was not the highlight of their relationship. It was all of the long talks they had had, it was the way he felt comfortable around her, it was their unspoken vow to protect each other in the heat of battle. They understood each other, they knew what the other had been through and they accepted it. They had shared things with each other that no one else knew. In the months before their night together one week ago (the last night they had actually talked to each other before today) they had grown close. Fenris and Hawke felt the exact same way about each other, but neither would risk the valuable companionship they had in search of something like love.<p>

Perhaps that was why Hawke was really so upset, it _was_ only a name, after all. But it brought back memories of things she had never shared with anyone, things she should have shared with _someone_. He wouldn't understand. That's what she told herself, that he wouldn't _ever_ understand. There's no way he could. Hadriana was a mage, that's all he would see. That's what she _should_ have seen. Hawke had never purposely betrayed anyone she cared about this much, but this felt like a betrayal. She had to say something, she had to at least tell _Fenris_ why. How though? How could she explain in such little time why something so simple had destroyed her? What words could she possibly use?

"What is it, Hawke? You are a logical woman, why is something that is no longer around bothering you so?" Fenris asked in a low voice of concern.

She couldn't think of what to say, she didn't know how to explain it. It _couldn't_ be. There was no way. So she blurted her question, unaware of the obvious reaction it would cause. "What does she look like?"

"What?" Fenris asked, an anger slowly boiling inside him.

"What does, Hadriana, look like?" She repeated, struggling with her name. Before Fenris could answer Isabela and Varric made their timely appearance at Hawke's side.

"All done!" Isabela announced, "That poor girl there though," she pointed to a blond elf who lay dead on the floor, "can't of died more than a few minutes ago, it's too bad we didn't get here in time."

"Uh, Isabela," Varric warned, "I think we should step back, Fenris is glowing again."

"Why, Hawke? Why the hell does it matter what she _looks _like! You will see what she looks like when she is _dead._" Fenris shouted.

Hawke just stared at the floor, staring had been a far too common occurrence with her today.

"Yes, Hawke," Isabela had not heeded Varric's advice, "why _does_ it matter what she looks like? It's not like you kno-oh, _shit!_" She put it all together with a loud flourish, her words melding together.

"Shit what?" Varric asked, Fenris was too dumbstruck to speak.

"You- Her-" Isabela puzzled, "Maker, I _knew _I had heard that name somewhere! If this _is_... Oh, your life fucking _sucks, _Hawke."

"Yeah, you're telling me." Hawke muttered.

"Will one of you explain what you're talking about? Now." Fenris commanded.

"Oh no, this is a shit-storm I want _no _part of." Isabela stepped back.

"Hawke?" Fenris turned to her, a rather accusatory look on his face.

"As I have said, it is nothing. She is _dead. _It is not possible." Hawke sneered at him.

"No? It's not? Since when has death stopped mages? Do you or do you not know Hadriana?" Fenris questioned.

"I knew _a _Hadriana, not this monster. _My _Hadriana wouldn't do, _this._" Hawke's voice cracked and what was almost a tear formed in the corner of her eye. There was something about '_my' _Hadriana that did not sit well with Fenris. Hawke reformed herself as quickly as she had almost fallen apart. She stood tall again and her features showed nothing. Isabela and Varric remained silent, both of their faces stained with an odd form of sympathy.

"How many Hadriana's do you think there are?" Fenris asked in a fit of rage, "I do not know what she means to you, but if you're going to stop me from killing her, tell me now. You will _not_ get in my way!" He knew it was not in his best interest to threaten her, but he meant it. He knew that if she and Hadriana stood together, even with Varric and Isabela they would be utterly doomed.

The silence that followed was as tense as her confrontation with the Arishok, but Hawke's expression was not the same. It looked like she had just stopped caring, or maybe she was trying to fix something in her own head, trying to decide. By this point she was aware of the very distinct possibility that this _was _Hadriana. When she and Bethany had left that day, Hadriana was beyond help, there was nothing they could do, so they ran. When they circled back days later to try and find Leandra and the boy, her body was gone. They had assumed that the hunters had took it, as proof that they had gotten at least one of the fugitives, but now a hundred 'what-if's ran through Hawke's head. She couldn't do this, Hawke couldn't handle this, but there was no choice, and she knew exactly what had to happen.

"I trust you," she said, never looking him in the eye, "if this is Hadriana and you say she's done these things, then she has. You have no reason to lie to me. She has to die."

Fenris couldn't say anything, there was nothing _to_ say. All the emotion had drained from Hawke's voice, from her face. It saddened him (and the others, of course) to no end. He wanted to do something, anything to make her feel better, but it wasn't the time, and he was sane enough to know that she wouldn't be back to normal until she had confronted her past. He had become so attached to her in the few months that they had known each other, and his emotions were moving too quickly for his comfort, but he knew it was right.

Fenris's thoughts consumed him as they made their way to the final battle. He was furious, confused, why didn't she ever tell him? They told each other everything. Why not something like this? Her name had never come up, there was no mention of her at all, like Hawke had purposely blocked him from it, which she had. He couldn't understand it, he couldn't understand _her._ He had said that before though, right? No one _really_ understood Hawke. There was only one other thing that she had never clarified to him, and now he had this sinking feeling that the two were the same. Hawke had said she was dead, but what else could it possibly be? Whatever she was looking for, it was important, definitely important enough to upset her like this. She had promised Bethany that she would find it, and 'the other mage' was the only thing they really had in common outside of slavery. It had to be Hadriana, there was no other explanation. How else could she have known her? Qunari? No, there was no way, but, how could the evil bitch of a woman that he knew ever have been anything _but_ evil? Fenris had assumed that she had always been Danarius' apprentice, but, thinking about it now, he never really knew. How, though? Hawke would have never stayed anywhere near someone so twisted and wrong on purpose. What could have possibly happened to change someone that much?

They turned the corner and Hawke's fear became reality. She stood there, encased in an impenetrable field of magic, completely immune to attack. It was her greatest strength, she could hold that field far, far longer than the mere seconds that other mages managed. Hadriana was not what Hawke remembered, her once gorgeous face had lost it's shine, she wore a permanent scowl, and evil pulsed from her. "Somehow... somehow I knew it that it would be you who found me, _Arvaarad._"

* * *

><p>It had been a long day, everyone was tired from all their work. Well, most everyone, it was almost impossible to wear Arvaarad out. Malcom and Leandra had gone to sleep already and Bethany was off tending to some child. Arvaarad sat on the edge of her bed, finally finished removing her armor for the day when Hadriana stepped in. The Qunari motioned for her to come sit with her, and she did. They smiled at each other, finding words to be superfluous. By now Arvaarad understood, but still did not speak.<p>

It was several long minutes before Hadriana spoke, but they were not awkward, they were perfect, simple. "I... I never got to thank you. For everything." Hadriana reached out her hand to touch Arvaarad's hair, slowly running her fingers down the length of it. Arvaard was confused, very much so, even. "You saved me, cared for me, always. I am sorry that you-" Hadriana's voice cracked in a short sob, "I am sorry you were hurt so badly for me."

Arvaarad turned solemn and she reached for Hadriana, mimicking her gesture, "No." She simply stated, unable to convey the many things she wanted to say, but after all their time together this one word said more to Hadriana than anything else ever could. She leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on Arvaarad's forehead. They smiled at each other again.

"Arvaarad, I care a great deal about you... Do you, do you understand what love is?" Hadriana asked in an unusually quiet voice. Arvaarad thought for a moment.

"Bethany... Malcom?" She asked.

"No, more like... Malcom and Leandra." Hadriana explained.

Arvaarad thought again, far longer now than she had prior. She thought until her mouth twisted for the very first time into a devious smile that would one day be a trademark of her very being. Arvaarad grabbed Hadriana with one hand behind her head, the other arm wrapped around her wast, and she kissed her. It was quickly returned, and from then on, the two were nearly inseparable.

Yes, Arvaarad protected Bethany, but she _loved _Hadriana.

* * *

><p>Hawke didn't even flinch, her stomach sunk and she felt sick, her mind reeled because she knew that in a matter of minutes everyone would know everything, but she <em>didn't <em>flinch. She didn't show anything. She just wanted to know why, and how. Hadriana strode forward and Fenris drew his blade to charge her, ready for this to be over.

"No." Hawke said, raising her hand to stop him, "As long as that field is up she's untouchable, don't waste your strength."

Hadriana sneered at him, at how easily he was tamed, but did not speak to him. "I see you've finally mastered the language, the last time I saw you you'd speak no more than three words at a time." She was only a few feet away.

Hawke's voice was slow and steady, it was not Hawke's voice, it was the voice of Arvaarad, "Time has changed both of us."

Hadriana scoffed at her, "So it has. You even took _her _name."

"Hawke, why are you talking to her, we wait and we atta-" Fenris started.

"Oh shut it, Fenris," Isabela said, "this has to happen, and besides, the more magic she uses on that shield the less she has to attack us with." Fenris just snorted his agreement.

"At least you travel in smart company." Hadriana said, shaking her head.

"What is it you want, Hadriana?" Hawke asked.

"That's all you have to say? 7 years apart and you only ask me what I want?" Hadriana's voice was angry and jilted. Hawke did not speak. She waited. She persevered. "You would be _nothing_ without me!" Hadriana shrieked. The didn't take their eyes off each other, Hadriana's face was wrought with emotion, but Hawke remained reserved and she refused to speak. "You finally have the power to speak and you say nothing! You my as well still be in Varnard's dungeon waiting for the next man to take his turn with you! I killed him, for _you_, and you still act like a slave."

Each of Hawke's companions shook with a distinctly different kind of rage.

_'Why does this bitch have to dredge up the past?'_

_ 'I **hate** men.'_

_ 'She is no slave!'_

But none of them said anything, they were smart enough to know that this was Hawke's battle, a battle that Hawke currently seemed unable to fight.

Years and years of anger and frustration boiled over within Hadriana, "Everything I did, I did for _you!_ But the only person you ever fought for was Bethany! Bethany and her whole damn family! _I_ killed Varnard, it was _me, _but all I ever heard was Arvaarad this and Arvaarad that! Just because you showed up with a giant, gaping hole in your side! I could have helped you, but you didn't say anything, you never fucking said _anything!_"

"Because she couldn't!" Isabela finally piped in, and was consequently flung into the wall with a blast of magic. Varric hurried to her side, but Hawke still didn't move, she didn't speak. It was like she didn't care, but that was not the case, she was furious with Hadriana for the things she was saying, there was simply nothing she could say, not quite yet.

"Why?" Hadriana asked, "Just... why was it always her over me? Why did you always protect _Bethany,_ but not me! I _needed _you!" Her face broke into a sob and Fenris couldn't help but stare. He had never even considered that Hadriana had a life before Danarius, especially not one like this. She had been slave? She knew what they faced, she had _felt_ it, and she still did all the things she did. How twisted and fucked in the head did you have to be to do that? What turned her? Magic. He blamed it on magic and hated her no less.

Hawke had planned to stay quiet, but she couldn't, "No! No, you did not _need _me! I protected Bethany because she was _weak._ You could protect yourself!"

"Then is that why you left me half-dead in a pool of my own blood! Because I could protect myself?" Hadriana's words were littered with tears.

"You were _gone. _ There was nothing we could do!" Hawke's words finally showed her emotion, she was finally Hawke again.

"You came back to find Leandra and that child, I know you did, when you saw that the boy's body was no where to be found, why didn't you see that _my_ body was gone? What did you think happened to me, did you ever even consider what became of _me_?" She managed to shout through her sobs.

"Of course I did." Hawke said through a clenched jaw, "I just didn't think it would be _this._"

"How else was I supposed to stay alive! How could I say no to him when he offered me _life? _I had no choice." Fenris's face twisted into further disgust at Hadriana's words.

"But you did. You were strong enough to escape, I know you were. The _things _you've done... Why? _Why_, Hadriana? This, this is what happened to _us._" Hawke's eyes betrayed a single tear.

"I already told you, everything I've done, I've done for _you!_" Hawke's face contorted in such abject horror that she couldn't even speak, so Hadriana continued, "I stayed alive so my Arvaarad could rescue me again, but you spent your years looking for that damned urchin child! Why was that bastard so damn important?" She shouted, and Hawke's horror quickly morphed to rage.

"Malcom! His name was Malcom! And he was Bethany's _son_."

"Holy shit, Hawke." Isabela spoke again, this time without the repercussions, Hadriana was still trying to figure out the validity of what Arvaarad had said. "That's what- _who_ you've been looking for! Why couldn't you tell me?"

"Because it is more than likely that he is dead."

Hadriana's face changed from the wreck that she had just been to the cold, cruel woman she had become. "He's not, because Danarius found him first. He's safe, training, he takes after his bitch of a mother."

There was no way to describe the combination of raw, unbridled emotion that played across Hawke's face, and she was lost in thought. She didn't think about how Hadriana could have done such a thing, she didn't think about all the time she had wasted, she didn't even think about whether or not she would storm Minrathous to save him, because she knew she would. What she thought about was whether or not he was worth saving. If the Imperium had done this to Hadriana, what terrors could it have wrought on a child? How much of that sweet, innocent boy had been lost? She was so lost in herself that she didn't comprehend Varric speaking, "Your sister is a piece of work, Hawke."

This made Hadriana angrier than anything had, and she shouted her opinion on it, "Sister! You told them I was your _sister?_ No, _Bethany_ was your sister, I was your _lover." _

"What!" Fenris shouted back, looking to Hawke for an answer, but she retained her blank look, she had had no doubt that this was going to come up. She didn't regret it, but she didn't want to explain it.

Luckily, she was not given the opportunity. Hadriana stepped as close to Hawke as her shield would allow. "I _loved _you, Arvaarad, I always loved you, and you loved me." She spoke in low voice, Fenris was close enough to hear her clearly, but it was only a whisper to Varric and Isabela. Hadriana searched her features for an answer, but could not find one, so she continued, "We could have had _everything_. We still can! Malcom is safe and well, you don't have to fight for him anymore. Just, forget about these people, about this life, we can finally be _happy_." She pleaded.

"What are you waiting for, Hawke?" Fenris argued, "Tell her no!" But Hawke didn't. Hawke listened. Hawke thought. Hawke hesitated. She glanced up at Hadriana, and for her, coming from Arvaarad, that was as good as a yes.

Hadriana enveloped Hawke in her field of magic, shielded from her companions, and stepped forward to cradle Hawke's head in her hands. And worse, Hawke didn't stop her. The room was sickeningly silent as she spoke in a slow, sweet voice, "We can be queens. I love you, Arvaarad, don't let them kill me, we are strong enough to stop them. _Stay with me._" And then it was quiet again, only the hum of fading magic to comfort those who waited for Hawke's reply.

"I love you, Hadriana, I never stopped looking for you." Hawke took the time to carefully enunciate each word, "I knew that whoever took Malcom had you, that's the only reason I kept looking for him. I cannot kill you." Hadriana's face lit up in triumph, and all was silent for quite some time, leaving the group with only their thoughts.

_ 'Why Hawke? You know what she's done. You know how evil she is. She's not whoever you used to know. At least if you're going to do this, let us go. There's no reason for everyone to die. I know my brother got Bethany killed, but you still have us.'_

_ 'You aren't doing this! I won't let you! We haven't stayed together this long just for you to throw it away! You're my only real friend, Hawke, you can't...'_

_ 'No! How you can you do this to me? We **had** something, something better than I've ever had, you can't leave me for **her**!'_

Hawke leaned in and kissed Hadriana, and the rest of them almost vomited right there. She held herself there for a long moment, and Fenris couldn't help but notice the similarity between this and the first 'kiss' they had shared, even it was just a drunken accident. She pulled back and touched Hadriana's hair, a throwback to the first night they had truly been together, and as her shield finally collapsed Hawke said with such a venom that the words alone could have killed her, "But I will not stop _them_."

And Hawke turned, walked away, and left the shell that was once Hadriana to her fate.

* * *

><p>Hawke sat on low rock outside, but it was quite some time before anyone came out of the cavern. The first was Fenris, of course, and he just glared at her, so confused and angry that he knew it was best not to speak, and he left. Varric and Isabela came shortly after and for the first time since Bethany had died, Isabela hugged her, it was one-sided, of course, but it was still what Hawke needed. "I'm sorry, Hawke."<p>

"Don't be, I already told you. Not all bad people are mages, but all mages _are _bad people." And Isabela didn't argue with her, not this time.

"Do you... want to bury her or something?" The ever-considerate Varric asked.

"No. I buried my memory of her 7 years ago, that _thing_ was not Hadriana."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **The next chapter will deal with the aftermath, and it will contain make-up sex, I promise. Anyway, this was a _really _emotional chapter to write and I hope I conveyed it well, tell me how I did! I had a couple different ideas for this in my head, one where Hawke really did turn on them (but only via blood magic) and in Fenris's quest to kill Danarius he frees her, finds out it wasn't real, so on and so on. Then there was that Hadriana _tried _to use blood magic, but before that last line Hawke fought it off. In then end I decided on this though, because Hawke would have really meant it, although, some of it was definitely stalling until Hadriana ran out of magic. Anyway, reviews are love!

**Edit:** I've had a few people message me about Fenris letting Hawke off the hook too easily, I promise, that isn't going to happen, there will be plenty of drama _before _the smut.


	5. Aftermath

**A/N:** Okay, here goes! I decided to go a far different route with this than I had originally intended, so I hope you like it. I almost made myself cry writing it, not sure if that's a plus or a minus. Please excuse my baby-errors, my eyes can't seem to ever catch them in time. This is probably my shortest Author's Note of all time.

* * *

><p>"Sleep." Arvaarad told Bethany. They were still a day-and-a-half from Minrathous and they hadn't stopped since the first battle. They had circled back to find the younger Malcom and Leandra, but had miserably failed. Bethany lost her mother. Her father. Her son. She couldn't sleep. Yet here Avaarad sat, telling her to do so. Damn her calm. How could she be so, <em>okay<em> with this? No, Bethany knew better than to think that, there was no way Arvaarad was okay, unless she really was inhuman. She had seen war like Bethany and Hadriana had never seen, the blood bath could not have been anything new. But Hadriana... Bethany knew what went on between them, and despite that she didn't approve, she knew that Arvaarad couldn't just walk away from her unscathed. "Sleep." She repeated with a firm nod and Bethany laid down beside her on the cold stone of the mountainous pass they had decided to take. As much as she didn't want to, she needed sleep.

"You need sleep too, Arvaarad." She whispered up to her.

"No. Watch." And she was right, someone had to keep watch.

"Wake me in a few hours, so you can rest." Bethany said, and the Qunari woman nodded again in reply. Bethany always felt safe with her, her presence made her feel like there was a great wall between her anything that may try to hurt her. Bethany would never know that that wall was slowly crumbling, and she would never see it fall. She would never see Arvaarad turn from the relentless warrior bodyguard that she was into a thief, a shadow. She would never know that one day Arvaarad would lay down her sword in favor of daggers. She wouldn't know because she would be dead. It would be Bethany's own death that finally killed Arvaarad, and it wouldn't be until that moment that Arvaarad would know what it truly meant to be Hawke. It was a still silence, one without even a breeze or the sound of wildlife. It reminded Arvaarad of the calm before a storm, in fact, it was eerily similar to the moments before her last great battle on Seheron. Arvaarad listened to Bethany's breathing, waited for it to slow and signal her sleep. When it finally did, for the first time in her life, Arvaarad cried.

Hawke wasn't being able to fight for what you believed in, it wasn't striking out against injustice. Hawke wasn't honesty or courage. Hawke wasn't even strength. Hawke was loss. The name carried so much loss with it that it couldn't ever mean anything else. Hawke was perseverance. Leandra had to lose her whole family for the man she loved. The whole family had lost everything time and time again fleeing from Templars. Bethany lost her parents and her son. But they kept going, and so would she.

* * *

><p>How does Hawke deal with her problems? Or anything?<p>

How does Hawke have a good time?

How does Hawke get to sleep?

What did Hawke turn to when her first love died and she felt like in a single moment she had lost everything and everyone she had ever cared about?

Alcohol.

It was always alcohol with Hawke. Her solutions came in liquid form. The only time she had spent in the past two weeks not totally smashed was in the few moments it took her to latch on to a new bottle in the morning. No one approved, but no one questioned her. No one ever questioned Hawke, she had a tendency to stab people who did. So, when Anders finally arrived her response was not far from the norm. This wasn't normal drunk-Hawke though. This was totally out-of-it, no mouth-mind filter Hawke. Isabela had taken the time to fill Anders in on what happened, and he had spent days trying to figure out what to say to her. As sick to his stomach as he felt about it, he was glad this had happened, maybe he had a chance now that the elf was no where to be seen. But, he was still a mage.

"Hawke?" He lightly knocked on her door at the Hanged Man, it was the middle of the day, but the only time she came out was for food and drink. Luckily she no longer shared a room with Isabela, they had finally earned enough coin to afford another. It made for far less awkward nights.

He heard a loud thud from inside the room, followed by clumsy footsteps and the click of a door latch. It creaked open and there stood Hawke, her hair a right mess and her deep-purple negligee had slipped off of one shoulder. It would have been sexy had she not reeked of bad alcohol, then again, there was this little part of Anders that really didn't care. "The fuck do you want, Anders?" Her speech didn't slur when she was drunk, probably because of how much time she had spent in that state.

"To check on you, and to offer my condolences. May I come in?" He spoke as softly as he could.

"No, no, and more fucking no." Hawke snarled.

"I- I am sorry. I'll-" Anders started before Hawke cut him off.

"No you aren't. You're trying to score, and you always have been, but you can't take a fucking hint. I don't _like_ you, Anders, not at all, and I never have. You are a mage. You are an abomination. You need to leave me the fuck alone, or I'll rip out your teeth and shove them so far up your ass you can chew with them again, do you understand?" She said, quite articulate about her speech.

"Yes. I'll go." He hung his head, looking an awful lot like a kicked puppy. He had been afraid of this, he had only ever tried to do right by her, but he always knew that there was that mage-hating part of her that could never be fixed. Maybe she and the elf really did belong together.

"Sorry, kid." Varric said from across the hall, apparently having heard everything, "Let's go." And the two trudged out of the corridor.

Isabela stopped him on his sad trudge out of the Hanged Man, "How'd it go? Is she any better?"

"No. She's not. It's been what, two weeks now? You have to do something, she wants absolutely nothing to do with me ever again. I want to hate her for it, but I really can't blame her." The slightly rational part of Anders reared his head.

"You're right, you can't. We'll figure something out." Isabela spoke.

"Good." And Anders left.

Isabela turned to Varric as he perched on the bar-stool next to her, "Go sober up Fenris, he needs to hear what Hawke has to say."

"Are you sure? Hawke is going to be pissed when she gets off this bender." Varric asked, hopping off his bar-stool just as quickly as he had sat on it.

"I don't care, she can be as mad as she wants as long she's sober." Isabela scoffed, "He's the only thing that's going to pull her out of this, and _I_ sure as hell can't get him to leave his house. Can you figure out why he's holed himself up in there, too? I mean, he's got it bad for that girl, you'd think he'd have gotten over himself and realized that the only person that really lost anything here is her."

"I'm betting he thinks she's strong enough to deal with it herself, and she'll come for him if she really cares. He took a big a hit, I think it's his ego more than anything."

"What the hell does his ego have to do with it?"

"Think about it, Isabela, those two are secretly in love with each other, but for all their smarts they're too stupid to realize it. Then Fenris finds out that she was totally head-over-heels for a woman that tortured him for years? How would you feel?" Varric asked, lightly stroking Bianca for some reason. But really, did he need a reason?

"I suppose I see your point, now get going."

* * *

><p>It wasn't that he had let the mansion fall apart in his long-term stupor, because it had always been a mess. It wasn't even that the door wasn't locked like it usually was, not that that would have stopped him. It was the fact that he had just stopped trying to hide the fact that he was drinking, there were bottles <em>everywhere.<em> At least Hawke had the class to clean up after herself.

"Oh, Fenris!" Varric called out to warn him of his arrival. No reply, not that he had expected one. Varric's first guess was usually the right one, and he guessed bedroom, which, lo and behold, was correct. When he found Fenris he was passed out in bed and Varric had to chuckle. He had never seen Fenris divested of his armor, but that wasn't the funny part. The part that had Varric in stitches was how he was posed, he looked suspiciously like he was cuddling with an imaginary friend. Eventually Varric's laughter woke the beast and he shot up all aglow. Fenris only heard manly laughter, and, of course, tried to attack it, but only succeeded in making Varric laugh harder. Fenris fell. He had drank so much that he woke up still tipsy and crashed on the floor when he tried to stand. "I can see why Hawke likes you so much, but seriously, put some pants on."

"Wha' Varric?" Fenris mumbled, scrambling for a pair of trousers a few feet away.

"Nothing, I just said pants."

"You lie." Fenris said, slightly more coherent. Maybe pants made him sober?

"A lot." Varric nodded as Fenris reached for an already open bottle on his half-broken nightstand. "No, no, no. Not today, Glow-boy, not today!"

"Why the hell not?" Fenris argued, only half convinced himself.

"Because my room shares a very thin wall with Hawke's."

"I don't want to see her." He snarled and flung the bottle at a nearby wall, realizing too late that he didn't have another handy.

"Well good, because you don't have to _see _her, you have to hear her." Varric shrugged.

"I don't want to _hear_ her either." Fenris argued.

"Too bad, and you're a terrible liar."

"You can't make me do anything, Varric, I don't want anything to do with Hawke, not yet. It's only been three days, do you really expect me to be ready to see her?" Fenris was totally sure of his statement. He must have drank more than Varric thought, but, to be honest, this was the most sober he had seen him the whole time, so it wasn't that far of a stretch.

"Three days? You two have both been in alcoholic comas for _two weeks_!"

"You're shitting me." Fenris used a very uncharacteristic term he had probably picked up from Varric himself, truly incredulous.

"Not at all. Isabela and I are getting tired of it. Isabela especially, the shit she has to put up with from that woman is heartbreaking."

"What do you mean?" Fenris asked, finally finding the courtesy to don a shirt as well.

"Every night Isabela goes to check on her, and every night she and Hawke have the exact same conversation, but Hawke doesn't remember it the next night. She hasn't even progressed the three days you have, she just keeps reliving that same day over and over again." Varric shook his head in dismay, "Even after Bethany I had never seen her cry, but in the past two weeks that woman has bawled the Waking Sea twice over."

"You're kidding." It seemed like more of a demand than anything, Fenris didn't want to believe Varric. Deny, deny, deny, and it didn't happen. He couldn't stand to, or even begin to imagine Hawke crying. Hawke bitched, Hawke laughed, Hawke got angry, Hawke told jokes, but Hawke never cried. Yeah, she was an emotional wrecking ball half the time, but it was never this kind of emotion.

"I wish I was, my friend, I wish I was. Now come on, get up, we've only got a couple before tonight's show." Varric unsuccessfully tried to put a light spin on the situation.

"No, I can't. She can handle this on her own." Fenris sat back down on the edge of his bed.

"See, that's the thing, she can't. I'm sure she believes she can, but she's obviously proven otherwise. I can't help, Isabela can't help, Aveline can't help, hell, we even tried Anders."

"Anders?" Fenris growled his answer just a little venomously.

"Right there, that's proof you care, and don't worry, Hawke threatened to 'rip his teeth out and shove them so far up his ass he could chew with them again'. Personally, I think it's one of her better threats." Fenris couldn't help but to (very badly) try and stifle a chuckle, "See, knew that'd get you."

"It doesn't change anything." Fenris quickly changed his tune, "I can't help her, I can't even understand her."

"Fenris, you understand her better than any of us do. We'll never get how the Qunari part of her brain works, or the slave part, or the mage-hate part, but you do. Sure, you don't understand everything, but you're really her only hope, and if you just hear her out you might realize why." Varric took a few waddling steps towards him.

"Can't you just tell me?" He asked.

"No, it's not something I can repeat, but I can tell you this, she thinks she's lost _everything._ Even if you lost your family, you don't remember them, but she does. She's painfully aware of everything she's lost, and all this has done is serve to remind her of it, can you even begin to imagine what _she's _going though? Regardless of who Hadriana was?" Varric had obviously touched a sore spot, but it had to happen.

"No, I can't, but I also can't just _disregard _who that bitch was. Do you have any idea what that woman did to people?" Fenris yelled.

"Yes, Fenris, I do." Varric's voice hardly raised at all, "Do _you_ have any idea how badly Hawke is beating herself up for that, too? She's certain that it's _her_ fault, if she had been stronger or smarter or faster she could have stopped her, and you know why?" Varric waited for an answer he wasn't going to get, so he just continued, "You. She could care less about anyone else she hurt, she told me that there will always be another magister, but there will never be another you. Maker, she's a sappy drunk." Varric only muttered his last sentence, not that that stopped Fenris from hearing it.

Fenris blinked up at Varric, or down, whichever direction he was, Fenris was still a little off on the spatial orientation thing. Seriously? She was blaming herself for that? That wasn't why Fenris was mad at her, he knew that if it wasn't Hadriana it would have been someone else, he was mad because she had _loved _that thing. He was mad because he didn't know how to handle the situation, so he turned to the same thing she had. "Really? She said that?"

"Yes, now would you go bathe or something, we've gotta get going. Isabela is going to be royally pissed if she has to have this talk with Hawke _again_."

"No, I, I still can't, I'm sorry." Fenris hung his head yet again.

"Why the hell not?" Varric asked, actually sounding angry, he was getting really tired of thinking he was making progress just to get another 'No, I can't.'

Fenris was silent for a long time, hoping that the either the dwarf would leave or he would find the courage to say what he actually needed to say. It was really weird to talk about this with another man, another anything actually, he had played it so close to the vest letting someone else know seemed out of the question. Varric was stubborn though, he just wouldn't leave. Fenris heaved a long sigh before he finally spit it out, "I can't handle her leaving again, I feel terrible about it because I was going to leave her, but it feels like shit being on the other side of it."

"You were gonna what?" Varric asked, raising an eyebrow.

"That night, all of my memories flooded back and escaped me just as quickly, I couldn't deal with it so I was going to leave her, but I awoke and she was already gone. I wouldn't ever do it now that I know what it feels like." Fenris explained, and Varric almost wanted to hit him for even thinking about leaving her, but he supposed that part of him understood.

"From what Isabela tells me that thing you two had wasn't exactly serious." Varric raised an eyebrow.

"But it was, Varric. I don't know how to explain it to you, but we- we had something. But she doesn't care about me, Varric, why would she leave me if she did? She obviously never left_ Hadriana._" Fenris really didn't know how to explain it to anyone, he knew that Hawke's mentality would have never let her actually do 'friends with benefits' as she had said. Part of him thought he was being narcissistic in thinking that she would make up an excuse just so she wouldn't have to admit her feelings for him, but he knew he was right, because it's exactly what he would do. Hell, he _was _going to do it.

Varric actually snorted a laugh, "I'm glad you asked that, it's one of the many questions she covers in her teary-eyed rant. Now get off your ass and get going!" Maker, they were _so_ perfect for each other, but they were idiots. Fenris looked at him funny for a moment before he finally did get his ass in gear, and it took just about the perfect amount of time for him to clean himself up before they had to go. Varric was still muttering under his breath about something as he scribbled on some sort of note-pad while he waited.

"Are you finally ready? I swear, you take longer to get ready than any woman I've ever met."

"Yes, yes, stop complaining. How exactly are we doing this, now?" Fenris asked, hefting his sword onto his back for what must have been more than the thousandth time.

"We're going directly to my room, you can hear everything clear as a bell through the wall. Isabela gave me a time, so if we're late it's your loss."

"Then let us go."

* * *

><p>"Hawke! Hawke, let me in!" Isabela pounded on her door as a part of their normal routine.<p>

"No! This is your fault!" Hawke shouted through the door.

"How the hell is this _my _fault?" Isabela yelled back.

"Ugh, I don't know, that's supposed to get you to go away!" Hawke argued, she didn't blame Isabela, she just didn't want to talk to her right now, Hadriana had only died a few hours ago, couldn't she just leave her alone?

"Well I'm not leaving. Let me in!"

The latch clicked but Hawke didn't open the door, she just slunk back to her big, comfy chair that was probably only comfortable because she didn't really care whether it was or wasn't. Isabela of course locked the door behind her and sat across from Hawke on the edge of her bed. It wasn't until that moment that Isabela actually got a decent look at Hawke, her leg draped over one arm of the chair, and Isabela's jaw just about dropped out of it's socket.

Hawke's hair was still a flailing mess, but she had at least made her way out of her negligee, and into a very sexy teddy with cut-out sides and not nearly enough coverage for her cleavage. The matching panties weren't much better. "What the hell are you wearing? Thank the Maker Anders didn't come to see you when you were wearing _that. Did_ Anders see you in that?" Isabela asked, incredulous.

"No, I just got it out of my drawer, it's awfully cold though. Good think I can drink. Oh look at me, rhyming." Hawke giggled, obviously over her previous hostility.

"Hawke, that's because it's one of those garments that you wear when you, you know, want _somebody else _to warm you up?"

"Oh, don't be silly, I don't own any of those."

"You're right, now that you mention it. Wait, that's _mine._ I thought that harlot from the Rose stole it! It's my favorite, give it back!" Isabela demanded.

"Alright, it was in _my_ drawer, but if you insist..." So Hawke shakily stood up, and started to disrobe.

"Wait, no! Just- leave it on." Isabela sighed, and Hawke shrugged, "Put that robe on though, you never know who might walk in."

"If you say so, Isabela." Hawke was awfully suggestible tonight.

"Is that silk?"

"Nah, just looks like it."

"Oh, never mind, sit back down." And Hawke did as she was told, "Are you alright, love? Do you know how long you've been in here?" Isabela finally got down to business.

"I have no clue, but don't tell me, I won't like it." Hawke leaned her head back and stared at the ceiling.

"Probably not. Are you... okay?"

"Am I okay?" Hawke's voice cracked with tears almost instantly, "I'm responsible for the deaths of _everyone _I cared about before I met you, not to mention royally fucking over half the people I care about now, and you think there's even a possibility of me being okay? No, Isabela, I am not fucking okay." Her hostility flooded back.

"You aren't responsible, Hawke, you-"

"I'm not? Really? Maybe _you_ can get away with saying that I wasn't responsible for the merciless slaughter of every man, woman, and child in that village, but Bethany and Hadriana? There's no way you can say that's not on me. I killed both of them." Hawke hissed.

"You said Hadriana was already dead, how could you have killed her?"

"Do you really think that matters? I left her, _again_. I my as well have killed her twice."

"What do you mean, Hawke?"

"I knew she was alive, Isabela, but I wasn't strong enough to do for her what I did for Bethany, I couldn't even put her out of her misery and look what she did. I ran away from her because I thought she only had moments to live, but she- How could I have done something like that to someone that I was supposed to love?" Hawke cried.

"Maybe you didn't really love her. After all, she was-" Isabela was actually prepared for the cut-off point.

"No! No, I will not hear this from you! Everyone already thinks I was in love with a monster, I will not have you thinking that too! The Hadriana I loved was not that freak!"

"Then educate me, Hawke, what was she?"

"She was sweet and attentive and she never got tired of me or fed up when I couldn't express myself. She was the only light I had when I was separated from everyone by an entire language. I mean, even Bethany got frustrated with me, but never her. Do you have any idea how hard it is when no one understands a word you say? I actually talked to myself just so I could understand something."

"Did you ever consider siding with her and turning against us?"

"No. I told the truth, Isabela, I knew she had to die."

"So, how much of what you said to her was true then?" Isabela asked.

"All of it. I stretched some of it out, I'll admit, someone had to stall until that shield fell, but I meant every word."

"She- Hadriana said something about a giant, gaping hole, what did she mean?" Isabela questioned.

"You change subjects awfully fast, you know." Hawke pointed out.

"I have a lot to cover, and that's really all I needed to hear, I have no doubt that you loved her. For what she was, of course, not what she became."

"Oh, what was the question again?"

"The hole in your side? The one you got during your escape?"

"Ah, that. Varnard was a nasty man, and a powerful mage, as all magisters are. If we were to fight him again today the battle would go much differently, but then, back when I was hefting around that greatsword, I took the brunt of the damage. He was going to kill her, he came so close, but I got in his line of fire and took a concentrated bolt of lightning to my side, if it had been anything but that I would have asked for healing, but it burned the blood vessels enough to stop it from bleeding, and we had to run." Hawke explained, lightly clutching at a phantom pain in her stomach.

"I'm sorry, I wish things had turned out differently."

"Not me, if it hadn't gone that way we would have never gotten out of there. He would have killed all of us, or worse."

"What do you mean, 'or worse'? What's worse than death?"

"At first I thought that being a slave was worse, but it's not, because eventually, if you're strong enough, it ends. But when I found out what Varnard had planned for me, that was the end. Our escape happened ahead of schedule, maybe if we had had more time, but, it wasn't so." Hawke was being vague again.

"You're not telling me the whole story, what was planned for you?" Isabela raised an eyebrow.

"There's a reason that it was Danarius that found Hadriana. He are Varnard were research partners, and, _friends._" Hawke snarled over the word, "I only knew what Varnard was going to do because I had seen it, his body-count was enormous. Most of them didn't even survive what he called the 'planning' segment, where he carved the patterns into conscious victims. I had no doubt that the pain of that wouldn't kill me, but at the time he was using far too much lyrium and I was smart enough to know I wouldn't survive. I wasn't going to let myself be another failed experiment."

"Wait, he was going to do to you what Danarius did to- How did you even know about the amount of lyrium?" Isabela was a wonderful actress, if Hawke knew she was faking this 'first time hearing it' reaction she didn't let on.

"He was. The Qunari are always looking for more effective ways to wage war, we were not oblivious of these lyrium warriors, and we had even looked into them ourselves. It took our scholars less than a month to deem the experiments too dangerous to even attempt, and these are people that believe saar-qamek is a good idea, mind you. I didn't need to read his papers to see that what he was doing to those people was more than any living thing could take." Hawke was chatty drunk, even though to anyone else she would appear totally sober. She talked about things she would never talk about if she were in her right mind though, and if she were to try and do anything that required any sort of hand-eye coordination, oh no, she would be screwed. In fact, if she was just sitting there she was probably the highest functioning drunk in Thedas.

"But how could you have been sure that you were really next?"

Hawke cringed before she answered, "He had started injecting lyrium into my bloodstream, testing my limits, it was the greatest physical pain I had ever felt. I cannot even begin to imagine what it must be like to be-" And Hawke finally burst into an all out cry. Isabela sat and let her bawl it out, even though it took several minutes and it was painful to watch, especially when this was like the fifteenth time.

"Now, now, Hawke, what is it?" Isabela tried her best to sound sympathetic.

"It's just, you heard her. Didn't you?"

"Heard what, dear, you aren't making any sense."

"She told everyone that it was _my _fault. And it _was!_ I could have stopped her, Isabela, she would have never hurt anyone if I had just stopped her."

"Good lords, more crying." Isabela muttered under her breath as Hawke started sobbing again, luckily she had gotten over the loud part of it, but then again, that wasn't so lucky for Isabela.

"What did you say?" Cover. Blown.

"Nothing, it's just that people can hear you, you know? I don't care, but they might." Isabela lost a large portion of her sensitivity, on purpose, she had finally choreographed this routine perfectly.

"Do I look like I give a shit?" Hawke barked at her, "Have I _ever _cared what the hell anyone else thought about me?"

"See! There's Hawke! I knew you were still in there. Now you get off this 'Everyone Hates Me' binge right this instant! In all the time you've spent barricaded in here there's only one person that you care about that _hasn't_ come to tell you that they really don't hate you, so you have no reason to think that." Isabela stood up and acted as furious as she could.

Hawke threw her hands up in the air, it almost looked comical from where she was sitting, "Fine! I'm off it, now I'm on the 'It's Only Fenris That Hates Me And I Have A Tendency To Murder The People I Love' binge."

"Little long for a binge name, isn't it?" Isabela cocked her head to the side and donned a smug grin.

"Maker, go away, Isabela." Hawke covered her face with her hand, trying to make it look like she was disgusted with her, but they both knew she was hiding a grin of her own.

"You have to go talk to him." Isabela sat down again.

"No." Hawke disagreed.

"Why not? He's the last thing standing between you and a life of at least partial sobriety."

"No, Malcom is the last thing, I'll see that through if it kills me."

"And it will kill you if you go about it the way you have been the past few times I've talked to you. You _do _remember how well it went for you the last time you 'stormed Minrathous'? And you had Bethany then."

"I have you now. I don't expect anyone else to go, but I know you'd follow me to the Void and back if I asked you to." Even like this she was totally sure of herself.

"The others would too, but we also care enough about you not to let you. There's another way."

"No, you don't get it, Isabela, this is my last stand. There is no other way. If I can't save him, I have nothing left." Hawke's voice grew dark.

"Bullshit. You have us. Not to mention this city, everyone outside of those posh Hightown gates adores you. Besides, I'm not letting you run into the Imperium to save a kid you don't even know is alive, especially when there's a better option."

"Don't say that, he has to be alive, Isabela, and what the hell is this option you keep talking about?" Hawke inquired.

"Think about it, you twit, you only have to _wait._ It's been this many years, you really think a little more time is going to hurt? Just wait for Danarius to come for Fenris. Hadriana said he was 'training', not 'slaving', he has to be his new apprentice." Isabela explained the most obvious course of action.

"Do you have any idea of one, how long that could take, and two, how much damage that could do to him?" Hawke argued.

"More damage than all the rest of this time already has? Face it, Hawke, if he's broken it's happened already."

Hawke sighed, "You're right. I suppose I do just have to wait."

"But first you have to go talk to Fenris." Isabela reminded.

"I already told you, no."

"And I already asked, why not?"

Something twitched in Hawke's face, "I can't, Isabela, I was already avoiding him before all this happened, and now... I just can't do it."

"Hawke saying can't? I call bullshit, besides, you weren't avoiding him, you were busy." She countered.

"I was busy because I was avoiding him."

"Ah, well..." Isabela seemed to think, "Why? Is a one-night stand really that hard for you to deal with?"

"That's not what it was, and no, and- and Maker, you _really_ don't get it, do you?" Hawke talked like it should be obvious.

"Hawke, I don't get half the shit that comes out of your mouth, yet alone this. Explain."

"It's just that, I never- I mean, I had, but..." She couldn't figure out quite how to say what she meant.

"Never by choice." Isabela finished her thought with a somber shake of her head.

"It's, more than that though, it's not that I wasn't sure of what I was doing, because I was, and I don't regret it. But again..." Hawke trailed off.

"But what? You still have every right to be nervous about it, I mean, I know you left early, but that was well within your rights. Not talking to him was a little harsh, but still, that's fixable."

"It was dark." Hawke blurted out.

"What? What are you talking about?"

"Just that, it was dark. Everything was perfect until he fell asleep and the fire went out."

"You left because you're afraid of the dark? That seems a little silly for a woman your age, doesn't it?"

"You don't understand, Isabela, it's," Hawke voice cracked again and tears welled in her eyes, this was the part Isabela really hated, and she would never forget the look on Hawke's face as she spoke, "it's more than the dark. It's what happens in the dark. My eyes were the only weapon I had left when I was-" Hawke stopped and wiped her eyes, not that it helped. Her voice was breathy and low, "And so he used magic to blind me, I spent days upon days in total darkness. That- That part of me will _never_ escape the Imperium, when I close my eyes I will _always_ be there." This time Hawke's tears were silent, but they fell nonetheless.

"But Hawke, you're in the dark here before you sleep, why was it any different?" Isabela quickly regretted her question when she saw the look of shock on Hawke's face, she had only asked it once in all the times this conversation had taken place and that look of utter terror was more than enough to disparage it, "I'm sorry, love, I suppose I didn't really think that one through. That's why you can't talk to him, isn't it?"

Hawke nodded, "How am I supposed to explain to him that I left because I thought he was going to turn on me? I know he wouldn't _ever_ do that to me, but lying there it was all I could think about."

"I'm so sorry. Do you want me to go talk to him for you? You know he'll understand, even if it is too hard for _you_ to tell him." Isabela offered for the very first time, hoping it would snap her out of it, unlike everything else she had tried.

"No, you can't, no one can know! I can't be that person anymore, I'm supposed to be Hawke." She pleaded.

"You _are _Hawke, dear, now get some sleep, and I'm taking your alcohol."

Hawke just nodded and started to drift off right there in the chair.

* * *

><p>"<em>Now<em> do you see why I couldn't just tell you?" Varric asked Fenris, whose face was totally unreadable.

"I do." He replied as they heard the door creak open.

"I sure as hell hope you know how to fix this." Isabela said as she sauntered in, "I cannot _stand _to see that woman cry again."

"And she won't if I have any say in it." Fenris said as he stepped around Isabela to exit the room.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Alright, R&R as usual, you guys really keep me going! The next chapter will be the sappy parts, of course (I know it's your favorite), and the final run-in with the Qunari. And don't worry, snarky Hawke is coming back! (She's been far too emotional lately.)


	6. Asala

**A/N: **Ah, it's been a while, but I'm back! I was torn between writing the scene as a confrontation, or something ridiculously sappy, but decided the latter was far, far too out of character and just made no sense. Also, I have to give a great big shout out to my beta, **Wynterkiss**, I would suck something major without her. (And you should hop on over to her page, her writing's pretty fabulous, if I do say so myself.) Now, onward to busting heads!

* * *

><p>How had it come this far? Who the hell was this woman? It certainly wasn't Hawke. Was this who she used to be?<p>

_"I stand with the Qunari."_

No, certainly not Hawke. She stood by the Arishok's side, regarded as a hero in the eyes of the Qun, hefting a large blade she called Asala. She looked at that sword as though it were life itself. The scene at the Keep was gruesome, especially the decapitated Viscount that awaited them when they arrived, and at first, her companions had thought that perhaps she was acting, but as they looked at her, face devoid of emotion or compassion for the innocent people slain here, they were certain they were wrong. Hawke was gone as quickly as she had returned, and whatever took her place stood to destroy all of Kirkwall.

* * *

><p>"I really hope this works, Isabela." Varric muttered over his mug. They sat on the bar-stools in the Hanged Man waiting for the verdict. Fenris had gone to talk to Hawke, and they had been waiting for a good half-hour.<p>

"Me too, Varric, me too." Isabela sighed, not her chipper self.

It was late evening and the tavern was moderately full, the hum of voices was continuous enough to melt all the conversations together. It smelled less like piss than it normally did, but only because the body odor was worse. Aside from that, everything was totally normal, so normal even that no one so much as blinked when a heinously loud crash resounded from the back. Business as usual, you know? Varric and Isabela, however...

Varric shook his head, "I really hope that wasn't Hawke."

"Knowing her? Well, let's just say our chances aren't good." And within moments Isabela was proven correct.

"_Get out!_" Hawke shrieked as Fenris backed down the stairs. She appeared seconds later, _still_ in lingerie, her fake-silk robe billowing behind her. All eyes were suddenly on Hawke, for obvious reasons. "I don't need your fucking pity, Fenris! You don't _know _me!"

"Looks like it didn't work." Isabela lamented.

"Eh, she's out of her room for something other than food and alcohol at least." Varric quipped back.

"Maybe I would '_know you_' if you hadn't lied to me about her!" Fenris shouted back.

"I didn't _lie_ about anything! I don't fucking lie!"

"Really? Because I distinctly remember everyone thinking you were Fereldan!"

Hawke was well acquainted with most of the people in the Hanged Man, she did live there, after all, and most of them were not aware of her Qunari upbringing. So, even though they were only paying attention to the faux-lover's quarrel for Hawke's attire (fights came and went in the Hanged Man quite frequently), hardly any of them missed this piece of pertinent information. A lot of them only worked with her because they believed her to be a refugee, which technically she was, and for the most part nothing would really change after Fenris outed her secret, but that wouldn't stop her from being furious about it.

Her face twisted in rage, "Get the fuck out of here, Fenris, I don't want to see your face." She didn't yell this time, she didn't need to.

"No! I tried to _help_ you, I even acted like I didn't give a shit about Hadriana and you threw it back in my face! I'm not going to follow your orders when-"

"Exactly! You_ acted!_" Hawke cut him off, "I don't want you to fucking act!"

"Fine! I'll tell you exactly how I feel then, I am absolutely disgusted with you! Is that what you want to hear?"

"Yes. I'd rather you be disgusted with me than look at me like I'm a damn victim." Hawke then muttered something in Qunari that no one understood. No one except Fenris, that is. It was then his turn to be furious.

"What did you call me?" He spat through clenched teeth. Varric and Isabela could both tell by his change in posture that she had said something truly heinous, they almost believed that he was going to outright attack her.

"You heard me, Fenris." She glared at him. Things were tense, as was to be expected, but for a moment, no one spoke.

Until Fenris let loose what sounded more like a mighty roar than words, "I am _**not**_a slave!"

Varric and Isabela's mouths fell open, and they stared up at Hawke with a look of pure incredulity, but Hawke explained herself, "He still controls every move you make, every decision! Hell, you even live where you do _because of him!_ And you want to stand there and tell me you _aren't_ a slave?" Hawke actually laughed at him, "Go ahead, the only person you're fooling is yourself."

"And you aren't? You're just as much a slave as I am!" He yelled in reply.

"I don't see my _master_ walking around, do you? I fought, Fenris, _you_ ran. You may be disgusted with me for Hadriana, but I'm disgusted with you for that."

Something snapped in him, he didn't show it, of course, but something changed, for the better or the worse he didn't know. It changed because he knew she was right. He hadn't looked at it like that before; he hadn't ever compared his escape to hers. He couldn't help but feel like a coward.

Fenris just made a growling noise and stomped out. He couldn't handle her right now, or the glaringly obvious failure she had just made of his most triumphant moment. She had managed to tear down the one thing he had, his freedom.

Everything was silent, and everyone stared at Hawke. So, she did exactly what Hawke would do, "What the hell are you staring at?" She called, "Go back to your drinks, you pathetic slobs!" Hawke was back.

She then walked over to the bar, sat down between Varric and Isabela, and asked Corff to get her some food. It didn't matter that she was in incredibly revealing bedroom attire, not a single patron questioned her, because they all knew it would land them with broken arms and missing teeth.

Varric tilted his head to the side, scrunched his eyebrows together, then slowly asked, "What the _fuck_ just happened?"

Hawke leaned back a little, shrugged and said "I came out to ask for some food."

It was quiet for a moment, then both Varric and Isabela bust up laughing. It wasn't even because it was all that funny, but because they had their friend back.

"Are you going to apologize to him? After he cools down anyway, you were kind of a total bitch." Isabela questioned after Hawke started into her shitty tavern meal.

"Fuck no, what the hell did _I_ do wrong?"

"You told him he was still a slave." Isabela reminded.

"Hey, I refuse to apologize for telling the truth. If you wanna go throw him a pity-party, be my guest, but I'm not saying I'm sorry when I'm not."

They were quiet for an awkward few seconds while Hawke chewed something that was probably supposed to be meat. Varric finally spoke up, "You could always apologize for hurting him, you may not be sorry for how, but even _you_ can't be that mean, especially not to him."

Hawke dropped her fork on her plate and glared at Varric, "You're a bastard, you know that? Got me thinking about feelings and shit. Ugh." She shook her head, "Fine, I'll _try_. No promises."

Hawke ate and they drank for a couple minutes, none of them really said anything, until Anders walked in. He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw her leaning against the bar, and she noticed him immediately. "You can stare at my ass as long as you want, but if you say _one fucking word_ about what I'm wearing I will kick you in the balls so hard you'll pass out and wake up in the Void."

He straightened up, "Am I allowed to ask _why_ you're wearing that?"

"No. It's funnier if you don't know." Hawke answered.

"I suppose." And Anders said nothing more on the subject, but he did try his damnedest to commit the garment to memory. "Are you, _you_ again? Or is this temporary?"

"Of course I'm me, who the hell else would I be?"

"That's not what I meant and you know it." Anders replied.

"I'm fine, Anders, I'm not going to let myself be controlled by something that happened a lifetime ago. I grieved, it's over." Hawke had a moment of seriousness.

"Good to hear." Anders was still skeptical though.

"What are you doing here, anyway?" Isabela inquired, he was supposed to be in the clinic all day.

"I was going up to talk to Aveline about getting some leniency from the Templars, if she could help at all, and heard some woman talking about 'that gorgeous, brooding elf' being yelled at by 'that Hawke slut'. I just _had_ to come in and check."

"I'm always telling him he has fans, never believes me..." Isabela sighed.

"So... it _did_ happen?" Anders asked.

"Yep." Hawke nodded, nonchalant.

"Wait, you aren't mad about some woman calling you a slut?" Anders was quite surprised.

"Well, uh, no, because I actually _do_ look like a slut today." Hawke said, as though it should be rather obvious.

"Fair point..." Anders trailed off.

Everything was back to normal, the group talked, they laughed, Hawke still didn't like Anders all that much, and Anders, despite how stupid it was, still had a thing for Hawke even though he was well aware it would never happen, but they both acted like neither was so.

"Alright," Hawke said after about an hour of meaningless conversations, "I have to ask, how long was I out for? I glanced under my bed before I headed out here and found a _copious_ amount of bottles."

"Two weeks." Varric nodded in reply.

"Wait, seriously? You're shitting me."

"I shit you not."

Hawke stopped to contemplate this momentarily before she spoke, "_Awesome_."

"Awesome? You think that's _awesome?_" Anders mimicked her reply.

"Well obviously. It totally beats my blackout drunk record into the ground, best I had before this was six days. I will admit though, I woke up to a _much_ better story that time." Hawke seemed to be recalling a rather fond memory.

"Oh?" Varric said, looking for an explanation.

"Are you talking about that time when we stopped over Antiva?" Isabela asked with a sly smile.

"Indeed I am." Hawke nodded.

"Explain, now." Varric demanded.

Isabela laughed, "She left me alone, holed up in a shitty excuse for an inn with nothing but a dagger, my underwear, and an oddly large amount of bread. She stole my clothes to 'fake my death' because the Crows were after me or some other ridiculous shit like that. Of course, she was drunk off her ass and I figured she'd be back in a few hours, but no, she comes back six whole days later and the first thing she says is 'I don't know who the fuck I killed, but they had these crazy looking moon things on their belts, and I'm pretty sure we need to leave right fucking now.' I just about pissed myself laughing."

Varric cracked up, but Anders had no idea what was so funny. "Did you ever figure out who you _killed?_" He asked Hawke.

"Oh, of course. When I woke up I was in a rather shady looking warehouse surrounded by corpses, I had a note in my pocket telling me where Isabela was, so I went to tell her what happened and she just fucking laughs at me and goes 'Were the _moon things_ blue?' I was like, yeah, the moon things were blue, what the hell does that have to do with anything? And she says 'We don't need to leave, we need to ask for a reward, you just exterminated a cult.' So we did, my prize got us by for a whole month."

"A cult?"

"Yes, Anders, a _cult_. Blood magic and virgin sacrifices, the whole shebang." Hawke said over a glass of alcohol that nobody knew the origins of, and no one dared question.

"I heard about that!" Varric exclaimed, piecing something together, "A buddy of mine said that he ran into to some drunk-ass lady with sword as big as she was running around asking about some nasty cult, and then bang, two days later they're all dead! I thought it was total shit!"

"Well, Varric, I shit you not." Hawke mocked his previous statement.

"And you don't remember a damn thing?" Varric asked for verification.

"Not a one. I remember barricading Isabela in a room, then I woke up thinking I massacred a bunch of pompous looking nobles." She confirmed.

"I'm telling everyone about this, whether they believe me or not."

"This is a story I'm actually okay with, so tell away, my dwarfy-friend, tell away!" Hawke cheered.

The group chatted about a few more things before Anders had to return to his aforementioned task and Hawke finally decided that perhaps it would be best to go get dressed. It was relatively late at this point, and Hawke and Isabela were both in agreement that even though it had only been a few hours, it was probably safe to go 'apologize' to Fenris. Neither of them was quite sure how it would go, but Isabela had something to chat with Hawke about before she trudged up to Hightown.

"I found it." Isabela said with a beaming smile.

"Found what?" Hawke asked, strapping on her boots.

"The relic! What else?"

"Really? When the hell did this happen?"

"Well, you were out of it and I had nothing to do, so I tracked down some leads. Some guy with an eye... or a leg? Or, oh fuck it, I don't know, but some guy named Sam."

"Do you know where this _Sam_ is?" Hawke raised an eyebrow at Isabela's vague description.

"Of course! What kind of shoddy, half-assed work do you think I do?"

"Isabela, your work doesn't even _have_ an ass."

"Oh shut up, Hawke. I did good this time." Isabela laughed.

"Alright, do we need to go pick it up now, or what?"

"Nah, tomorrow night, that gonna work for you?"

"I don't see why not, unless the Qunari decide to ransack the city between now and then I think it'll be alright."

"Then it's a plan! Just, uh, what do we do with it after that?"

"Well, if you take it to them you're taken prisoner and forced to convert or become a mindless laborer, so I guess that's out of the question, and we can't really frame anyone, seeing as they know exactly who you are, so... I don't really fucking know." Hawke threw her hands up with her last sentence.

"Well fuck, Hawke, what are we going to do?" Isabela frowned.

"Didn't I just tell you that I don't fucking know?"

Isabela sighed, "Can we run again? I mean, as much as I prefer fleeing via the sea I'm sure we could manage on land."

Hawke dawned a somber expression, "Of course we could, but we'd be leaving the Qunari here to destroy the city, and besides, they'd catch up with us eventually, then they'd destroy whatever city we were in then, too. We can't outrun or outfight and an entire army, and the Tome of Koslun is too important for them to just forget."

"So I'm fucked either way?"

"No," Hawke said, "they aren't after me, as long as they don't know I had any involvement in the theft I can try to figure something out. I'll get you out of this, you still have Castillon to deal with, after all."

"Thank you, Hawke. It means a lot that you're willing to stick around for this."

"I know, I know, what the hell would you do without me?" Hawke chuckled, "Alright, I've gotta go, Maker only knows how this is going to turn out."

"Just, don't break anything, okay? That mansion is already trashed enough."

"No promises."

* * *

><p>Hawke's walk up to Hightown was not as nerve-wracking as one would expect. She didn't spend every step rehearsing what she was going to say, she wasn't breaking out in a nervous sweat, she didn't even really think about it. In fact, she even beat down a few thugs on her way there, leaving blood spatter all over herself, which she didn't care to clean up.<p>

She was fine. As badly as she had felt about this Hadriana business, she was over it. With everything and everyone she had lost in her life she felt there was no reason to be all mopey about it, besides, she had mourned Hadriana's death years ago. In all honesty, now that she was actually dead Hawke felt much better, there was no more uncertainty. She knew where she was, who she was, and what she had to do. Hawke had a purpose again.

Upon arrival she contemplated whether she should knock, or just walk in like she always did, of course she decided on the latter. As she marched through the halls up to Fenris's usual dwelling area she noticed the number of discarded bottles steadily grow, and when she reached the last doorway she half expected to walk into a room stacked to the ceiling. Just as she laid her hand on the handle glass shattered against the opposite side of the door.

"Go away, Hawke!" Fenris growled.

"Alright..." Hawke spoke with a sarcastic undertone, "But first, how'd you know it was me?"

He was silent for a moment, "You're the only one I can't hear coming until you're a few feet from the door."

"Okay, bye then!" Hawke said, far more energetic than the situation required. She was almost out of room when Fenris called after her.

"Hawke, wait!"

She wheeled around on her heel and put her hands on her hips, "Yes, Fenris?"

"What- what the hell happened to you?"

"Oh, this?" She motioned to the blood that splayed her face and tunic, "Don't worry, it's not mine, I just don't bother to clean up when I'm by myself."

"Uh... Why not?"

"It's a Qunari thing, we win half our battles with fear, and there's nothing more terrifying than someone charging into a fight covered in the blood of their enemies. Albeit it's a little less effective when you aren't monstrously large with the horns and the war-paint and such, but I'll take what I can get." Hawke explained with a shrug.

"Oh." Fenris said, momentarily distracted from the true situation at hand. He shook his head, "Why are you here?"

"To apologize, obviously."

"Why? You were right." Fenris took on a very 'kicked-puppy' sort of look.

"Of fucking course I was right! I'm always right. That's not what I was apologizing for." Hawke picked a spot on the floor to stare at, she hadn't ever really apologized for anything.

Fenris made a noise that sounded like it was supposed to be a question, "What is it then?"

"I was a bitch, I had no reason to be that mean to you when you were just trying to help, which you did, by the way. Thank you for that." Hawke muttered.

Fenris stared at her for a moment, completely flabbergasted. She was always so articulate and well-spoken, even if half that speech was swearing, she never talked under her breath like this. She was being... _quiet_. Hawke was a lot of things, but she was _not_ quiet. "You're having a _really _hard time with this, aren't you?"

"Yes. I don't apologize to anyone, I usually just kill them, but I can't kill you, so I have to do... whatever the hell this is." Hawke looked up at him with an awkward smirk. Fenris was incredibly pleased that she was actually taking the time to tell him she was sorry, it was very unlike her, and because of this he couldn't be mad at her anymore. He still wanted to be, but thinking about everything that had happened, everything she had said, he wasn't.

"Why not?" Fenris asked.

"Why not what?"

"Why couldn't you just kill me?"

"I actually_ like_ you. Everyone else I've ever had a reason to apologize to needed a knife in their back anyhow."

"So you like me?" Fenris took a step towards her, standing a foot away.

"Didn't I just fucking say that?" Hawke responded, talking much more like herself now.

"Just checking." He said, placing a hand on her bloodstained cheek. She just about flinched away, but then leaned back to him, a sign of approval. He leaned forward to kiss her and she reciprocated. Despite their dispositions it was almost... sweet. "I like you too, Hawke."

"Good. Now, I've gotta go visit one of my Qunari contacts, you want to come with?"

"Of course. Speaking of though, did you and Isabela figure anything out about that?" Fenris asked, Hawke had told him about the situation quite some time ago, although she had skillfully left out her involvement. She had a perfectly good reason for that though, Isabela was the only one that could know, because at the time she was the only one she could trust to keep her mouth shut. Not that she thought Fenris would run to the Qunari with information on their fugitive. He wasn't all that fond of them even though Hawke used to be one. She was simply planning ahead, minimizing risk. She knew that when everything went down it would be best that no one knew how she had helped in the theft, because she would be just as guilty, and it's quite difficult to outdo the Qunari when they want you dead too.

"Indeed, she's found the relic, we just have to go get it, and then find out how to return it _and_ get Isabela's manhunt turned off. Unfortunately, I have no fucking clue how to do that."

"You could always duel the Arishok. If I am correct he cannot deny a challenge."

"Oh yes he can. In the eyes of the Qunari a hero I may be, but I do not exist. Unfortunately I'm probably the only thing he _could_ deny a challenge from."

"And I fear you're the only one that could surely defeat him." Fenris shook his head.

"You don't think you could beat him?" Hawke raised an eyebrow.

"I stand a fair chance, but your victory is assured. You know how he fights, you know Qunari tactics and battle form, along with what you've learned since. I have never seen anyone that fights quite like you."

Hawke had already considered this alternative, Fenris dueling the Arishok, and she had nearly no doubt that he would in an instant, but she too was aware of the glaring risk. Hawke was all about risk, when it came to herself, but she would not put him in harm's way. It was not his battle. Even though it was her mess, Isabela stood no chance, which left only Hawke. There was only one way she could get herself a duel with the Arishok, but there were so many variables. Would Isabela trust her enough? Would the rest of her companions attempt to intervene? Or would they catch on to her plan? No, how could they? They knew nothing of Qunari practices, except for Fenris, but his knowledge was minimal in comparison. Hawke knew though that this really was the only option. She simply had to jump, and hope there would ground below to land on.

"Well thank you Fenris." Hawke winked at him, "We ought to get going though, I was supposed to visit this buddy of mine two weeks ago!"

"Is that so?" Fenris muttered to himself as they walked out.

* * *

><p>They walked through Hightown down to the Docks as though nothing had ever occurred. They chatted as they always did, Hawke was the only person Fenris 'chatted' with consistently.<p>

"So," Fenris began in a moment of silence, "I could not help but notice that said you used to wield a greatsword."

"Ah, I did! Asala was a weapon much like yours, longer, but lighter. I found one almost just like it after my stint in the Imperium, though it was never really the same. I carried it right up until the moment Bethany died." Hawke's tone was informative, rather than reminiscent.

"Asala? I have heard the word, but I do not know what it means."

"It is rare that any non-Qunari does. Many are aware of a Qunari's connection to their blade, that if it is lost they are no longer accepted by the Qun, but few know that it has a name."

"Asala is not the word for blade." Fenris didn't understand.

"No, it is most certainly not." Hawke laughed, "Asala means soul."

Fenris contemplated this for a moment, "Do you know where your soul is?"

"Yes." Hawke answered with a nod.

"Do you not want it back?"

"I no longer believe in the Qunari's idea of Asala. I will forever cherish that blade, it was created specifically for me, I did all my training with it, every battle, every skirmish, but I have no reason for it now. My purpose lies outside the Qun. However, if I was given the option to reclaim it, I would."

"Where is it? Perhaps we could retrieve it."

"The Arishok has it. I saw it when we were first there, with the blades of the fallen." Hawke spoke of a wall of weaponry within the Qunari compound. To anyone else it would have simply looked like a weapon rack.

"Why didn't you say anything?" Fenris was puzzled.

"It is no longer mine."

"I see." They continued their walk with far less important conversations until they arrived at their destination. Hawke's 'contact' was in a less than ideal state when they walked in. More precisely, he was dead.

The warehouse was stacked with the normal nondescript crates and such, picking up dust because they were nearly never moved, but the corpse seemed rather fresh, as far as corpses go. It was at best a few hours deceased, but the trauma to it was far longer lasting. The man was cut, bruised, burned, his body littered with various injuries.

"Well, this is unfortunate." Hawke sighed, "He_ was_ a notorious criminal though."

"This seems a little harsh for thugs, why would they waste their time on this?" Fenris pointed out.

"Now that you mention it... He still appears to have all his valuables, the only people that disliked him wanted money, why would they have left them?" She spoke mostly to herself, and as she further inspected the mutilated body some understanding dawned on her. She swallowed hard and took a step back.

"What is it, Hawke?"

She let out a deep breath before she spoke, "These are Qunari war practices. They knew he had information on their movements, which means they're moving now. Fuck."

"Wait, why?" It didn't make sense to Fenris how one dead informant meant anything.

"His location really wasn't much of a secret, anyone could have found him, and the last time I saw him he told me that the Qunari knew he was snitching on them to someone, they just didn't know who. They left him be though. The only reason they have to kill him now is that he knew something worth killing for. I can only assume that since they have undoubtedly surmised that he wasn't telling the Guard that they think he was telling the thief, which I suppose in a way he was."

They stood in silence for a long moment. Then Hawke chuckled. "What's funny about this?" Fenris asked.

"I just can't catch a break, can I? It's one thing after the next."

Fenris nodded in agreement. "How long do you think we have?"

"Twelve hours, at best. They wouldn't finish him off until they were completely out of time."

"What are you going to do?"

"Well, my last minute plan relies entirely on you." Hawke's expression was entirely serious, "Can you help me?"

"I can try."

Hawke spoke quickly, "Get Isabela, tell her what's happened. Get the whole team together, then get the relic and come find me, hopefully that'll give me enough time."

"Time to what? Where are you going?"

"It's best if you don't know, but please, I need you to trust me, regardless of what's occurred." This couldn't have happened at a worse time, even on a good day this required a vast amount faith, but now, when things were still tenuous at best?

Fenris simply nodded in reply, and turned to leave. "Wait!" Hawke called after him, he stopped to listen, "I need you to tell Isabela, and Isabela alone, that no matter what happens, no matter what is said or done, that I am going to get her out of this alive." He nodded again and left the warehouse.

* * *

><p>He did as he was asked. He found Isabela and relayed Hawke's message, she seemed confused but soon understood. The two of them rounded up Anders, Aveline and Varric. Anders and Aveline were both furious upon hearing of the situation, but were not reluctant to help. In the middle of the night they retrieved the Tome of Koslun with necessary force. A deep foreboding fell on all of them, the question on all of their minds was the same, <em>where is Hawke?<em> Although, Fenris found himself with an additional concern. He continued to wonder why he hadn't he left her without so much as a word. Maybe he didn't know what to say. Maybe he was too afraid to say it. Maybe he just didn't want to. He couldn't decide. It felt suspiciously like a goodbye, and he did not want to recognize it.

So the group now moved towards the Docks, but on their way they found that they were too late. The streets were rapidly filling with panic and blood. If Hawke was trying to stop this, she had obviously failed. They searched for someone who knew what the hell was going on, and after much fighting they found what they were looking for. A Guardsman informed them that they should change course to the Viscount's Keep. It took quite some time to arrive there, and the battles grew far more severe. Still no sign of Hawke, either. Eventually the group found the makeshift coalition of Meredith and Orsino, and volunteered to make their way into the Keep while they fought off the main force. First though, Anders thought to question them on the whereabouts of their missing leader.

"Have you heard anything about a woman named Hawke?" He asked.

"Hawke? I know of no Hawke." Meredith replied, annoyed at the mundane question.

"She's tall, black hair, bright blue eyes, some sort of face paint, maybe you've seen her?"

"No. I have not."

"But I have." Orsino interjected.

"Where?" Fenris immediately spoke up.

"Cutting down the Circle mages, along with anyone else that stood in her path. She is in the Keep."

"What? No!" Anders protested. The others shared a look of disbelief.

"Believe what you wish, the woman with the Arishok matches that description."

The five of them didn't want to, but in the end realized that the woman Orisno spoke of was undoubtedly Hawke, and when they finally entered the main room of the Keep she was there, standing by the Arishok's side, hefting a blade she had not touched in years.

"Hawke! What is the meaning of this?" Aveline was the first to shout.

She stepped forward, in front of the center stairs, between the group and the Arishok. Hawke stood only six feet away from them. She pulled Asala from its place on her back and held it beside her.

"I stand with the Qunari." Hawke spoke without the emotion that so easily identified with her.

They didn't know what to say, but luckily they didn't need to. The Arishok spoke from behind her, his voice a booming roar.

"Prove yourself. Cut down this evil and show your devotion to the Qun."

None of them knew what he meant, Fenris assumed that by evil he meant Isabela, the reason for this whole crusade, but it wasn't until Hawke rushed forward with a lightning quickness that he realized to what he truly referred.

Perhaps he would have been able to defend himself had he known what the Arishok meant. Maybe if she had hesitated even a moment, maybe then he would have had a chance, but she didn't. The tip of the blade plunged through Anders' throat, decapitating him. She still wielded Asala with deadly precision. Hawke pulled back and unleashed a firm kick to his torso, knocking the standing corpse over.

Everyone was so awestruck that words were lost on them. Aveline and Varric couldn't believe that she had just _killed _Anders. Even knowing her distinct hatred for the abomination Isabela and Fenris were both starting to believe that she really _was_ going Qunari. Besides, now there was nothing they could do. If they fought both Hawke and the Arishok, not to mention the armada of soldiers, they would lose.

Hawke stepped back to her original position as the Arishok spoke. "You have proven that you are again one of the Qunari. From this day on you shall again be known as Arvaarad."

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** I hope this lives up to expectations. I assume that most of you know what Hawke's up to, but it's totally alright if you don't, surprises are good. R&R, thanks for reading, all that good stuff! I apologize if any of you are too upset by the death of Anders, but I felt as though he needed to die, and so he did.

I don't want to bore you with all the details of my title competition again, so if you're interested go check out the ending Author's Note in the "Nightmares" chapter of my other story, A Warrior's Heart.

**Edit: **Fug. Forgot my line breaks. I apologize for any confusion over the earlier version.


	7. Asit Tal Eb

**A/N:** I know, I know, trust me, I know how flucking (not a typo) long I've been gone. Stuff has been happening. THINGS, MAN, THINGS! To the question "Why Anders?" Simple. Because I hate Anders. I said I wanted to kill him, and so I did. Anyhow, four things before we get going. One, I hope the fight is understandable, it works in my head, but I don't know about on paper, screen. Two, I sped the healing. In game, they stand up from the brink of death in like two seconds, and I didn't really feel like a long healing period would work for anyone. Three, sex. I just can't write it well, I'm really sorry. Four, this is un-beta'd. I don't have a legitimate Internet connection at my house anymore (one of the THINGS!) so I just have today to get this up. Mmm, and Asit Tal-Eb means "The way things are meant to be." Alright, on to the story!

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><p>Silence. Dead silence. The Arishok spoke, then there was quiet. It did not last long, but it certainly felt like it. In those moments of silence a rush of thoughts made their way through the room.<p>

_'What the fuck, Hawke?'_

_ 'When we get out of here she is going away for a very, very long time. __**If**__ we get out of here.'_

_ 'Hawke... This can't be what you were planning...'_

_ 'You're really doing this, you're really turning on me. Well, then I'm taking you down with m-'_

Then the corner of Hawke's mouth turned up in her trademark smirk and she _winked _at Isabela. Of course, everything became clear to the pirate in that instant, and though she couldn't quite agree with the method she understood its necessity. Hawke wheeled around on her heel and put a hand on her hip, "I think it's time for our duel, Arishok."

Varric and Aveline became even more confused, but Fenris grew fearful. He knew that Hawke could win, but was afraid of the injuries she would undoubtedly sustain in the process. The Arishok stepped forward, "What is the meaning of this, Arvaarad?"

"Asit tal-eb, Arishok. This was inevitable from the beginning, from the very moment I walked into your compound all those months ago I knew that this is how it would end, one way or another. You and I, one final battle. I am surprised you did not see it, perhaps your time in Kirkwall has dulled your mind." Hawke ended her speech with characteristic elegance.

The Arishok let out a grunt that may have even been some sort of shallow laughter. "You are telling me that you knew your city would be destroyed, and you let it happen?"

"Could I have truly stopped it? No, the city could not have forced you to leave, nor could I have possibly predicted when you would strike. All I could do was stick around, I _am_ the only one that stands a chance at stopping you." Hawke explained.

"You know that all we need is the Tome of Koslun and the thief, then we will leave, no more lives lost. Will you not give us that?" The Arishok advanced even further, finally reaching the bottom of the stairs.

"You almost sound afraid, Arishok, it is not becoming of you. Besides, there's also no more lives lost if I kill you." To all the nobles in attendance there was no discernible change in the Arishok's tone, but Hawke saw it. He knew the risk of facing her in battle and dared not underestimate her based on size alone.

"No. You may believe this city has dulled my mind, but it has not dulled my blade. You will have your duel." The Arishok drew his weapons.

Hawke then tossed Asala to the side with a deafening clang. She turned to her companions, "Isabela, dear, can I borrow one of those? I seemed to have left mine back at the compound."

"Of course!" Isabela quickly handed one of her daggers to her friend as the four stepped out of the makeshift dueling arena.

The combatants stood poised for battle, the Arishok a threatening menace who stood several heads higher, and wider, than the light, dextrous Hawke. He spoke, "You are a disgrace to the Qun!"

"Eh," Hawke said, "I don't really need the approval of a totalitarian society." With that she cast aside all connection she had to the Qunari, they were only an enemy now that she knew a better way of life. Then, with a frightening giggle, she disappeared in cloak of shadow.

The Arishok stood in an area of pure light, he was aware that as long as he stayed there he would have more than enough time to fend off her approach. Where she would she attack from though? He heard the faintest of noises in the far right corner and barely turned his head in reflex.

Hawke had made her way to the upper level, silently scaling the wall with help from the corner. She had used the commotion of the gathered nobles to disguise her footsteps and simply had to wait for the Arishok to turn his head, no matter how slight. She did not know what phantom noise he heard, and she did not care. Hawke jumped headfirst, dagger out. The Arishok did not even expect such an aerial attack to be possible.

It dug deep into the flesh of his right shoulder, deep enough for Hawke to use as a handle as her momentum carried her around him. She caught his neck in the crook of her leg and quickly had him in a stranglehold. Hawke's arms cemented her grasp, covering his eyes to deny him of sight. She did not hold the brute strength to snap his neck nor the stamina to face him in direct combat, she had to hold him here until he passed out and then finish him off. With the shoulder wound in place it would not take long before he lost mobility, but even she feared the amount of damage he could inflict in the time it took to weaken him. Maker knows how good Hawke was at taking punishment though.

Surprise is a strong enemy, the Arishok dropped the sword in his right hand as soon as the dagger struck, but it only took him a few seconds to assess the situation. If he could get her off of him, he would win. He knew that he only had these first moments to do it though, before the blood-loss and lack of oxygen to his brain started to kick in.

He chanced killing himself if he struck with his remaining sword so he discarded it. The Arishok grabbed at his face and found Hawke's arm, he pulled and it came free. He kept hold of it and twisted as far as he could, a series of sickening cracks echoed through the Keep followed by a heinous scream.

Though her arm was disgustingly mangled, Hawke still held strong. The Arishok reached back up and grabbed her leg, simultaneously throwing himself against the ground, crushing her beneath him. The shock of the blow did nothing to deter Hawke, as always, she would be bruised, but she would _not_ be stopped. The Arishok still pried at her leg, but he was weak. He did not have his strong arm and he had simply shoved the dagger in further by throwing himself to the ground in an attempt to jar Hawke from him. Hawke was growing weak too, her now useless arm, her entire back side, the claws that had cut through her leggings and were digging into her thigh, everything made it harder to maintain pressure on him. Time was running out for both of them, at this point it was simply a battle of wills. After all she had faced, Hawke's will was stronger.

It was not enough. Sometimes brute strength alone really does win. The captives looked on in abject horror, the groans of the combatants the only sound. Fenris, Isabela, Varric, and even Aveline had all believed she would win, but their hope was fading. Hawke knew that even though not a full two minutes had passed her strength was nearly gone, adrenaline drove her on now.

There was one thing left to do, but she did not want to do it. It was underhanded and dishonorable. It was disgusting. It was also her only chance. As she acted on this last gasp effort members of the crowd turned away, but many could not help but watch. Hawke gouged the Arishok's eye out.

With his eye went his will to fight, this last injury did him in. His hand fell away from her, large pieces of her flesh coming with it. Hawke held him there for a few moments until he stopped twitching entirely, but even so, as she untangled herself from him she still drew the dagger from his back and slit his throat, if not just to be sure. A wave of relief washed over the onlookers as Hawke stumbled to her feet. She was half-hunched and her breath came in heavy pants, but she managed to speak just loud enough for everyone to hear, "Your Arishok is dead. You have your tome. You will return to Par Vollen, and you will do so _now._"

They did not hesitate, the Qunari army left. The now freed nobles erupted in applause and then promptly made for the exit. Hawke's friends rushed to her side, though they did not really know what to say. Aveline was torn between praising her and arresting her. Varric wanted to discuss quite how she was going to talk her way out of the plethora of legal troubles that were definitely going to come with all this. Isabela did not know quite how to approach thanking her. Fenris didn't really understand exactly what he felt, he couldn't remember caring about anyone enough for it to matter when they were injured.

Hawke cracked a small smile and took the honor of speaking first, "Did you see that shit? Fucking _legendary_." Her voice was not as loud as it usually was, but her tone was the same.

"It _was_ pretty awesome." Varric nodded.

"Your arm is utterly destroyed, there are giant chunks missing from your leg, you undoubtedly have a concussion, you're probably going to jail, and you're concerned with how awesome it was?" Aveline was ever the killjoy.

"Was it not awesome?" Hawke replied, sarcastic even in her state. Aveline scoffed in reply. The pain was, as Hawke was so accustomed to, more of a dull throb than anything. It would certainly kick in later, but for now she was just shrugging it off. She turned to Isabela and handed back the dagger, "You should probably sell that. I mean, the blade that killed the Arishok? It's undoubtedly worth a small fortune after this."

Isabela smiled surprisingly sheepishly, "Thank you, Hawke, for everything."

Hawke smirked back at her, "Don't say I never did anything for you." She laughed a little, or tried to, anyhow. Her laugh turned into a cough, and that cough turned into blood. Her legs gave out and she fell to her knees. Fenris instinctively moved to her side, lifting her good arm around him and trying his best not to hurt her while helping her up. She leaned on him heavily, her voice grew consistently weaker, "I'm starting to regret killing our only healer."

"We'll find you a different one, Hawke, I promise." Fenris said, his voice tinged with an unfamiliar fear. He turned to the others, "He probably hit the artery in her leg, we need to get-"

Meredith and Orsino chose that moment to walk through the door, rather later than they should have been. Meredith spoke, "Is everyone alright? A few of the nobles informed us of the situation on our way in." She stepped around the crew to view the dead Arishok for herself.

Aveline took command in Hawke's momentary weakness, "Everyone but Hawke, she needs healing immediately."

"Then she will have it. Orsino!" His name was more of an order.

"Must I?" Orsino sneered.

Hawke spoke up, "Your damn mages are alive, at least the ones you think I killed. They are unconscious, not dead, much to my chagrin. Now man up and _fucking heal me._"

Orsino did not know what to say, he was not used to being spoken to so brashly. Meredith almost snickered. It was Fenris who spoke, "Did you not hear her?"

The First Enchanter shook his head and got to work, he made quick work of the bruising and the concussion, then moved on to the leg. Fenris watched every move Orsino made, he did not like that he couldn't help Hawke himself, that he had to let a _mage_ do it.

Meredith wasted no time though, she turned back to Aveline, "Guard-Captain, what exactly occurred here?"

"When we arrived the Arishok had slain the Viscount, then he ordered Hawke to kill that man there," she pointed to Anders' corpse, "which she did. To the best of my knowledge, though I do not claim to understand Qunari custom, I believe she did it to earn the right to duel the Arishok. She did so, and won."

"And how does _she_ know Qunari custom?" Meredith questioned.

"Many years ago she was Qunari, but this undoubtedly proves that her loyalty is to the city."

"Indeed. It appears that Kirkwall has a new champion."

"But she _murdered_ that man!" Orsino argued.

Hawke's voice was no longer weak, "Uh, if you take a closer look you'll find that that man was an abomination, I did the city a fucking service killing him."

"Then you have committed no crimes, when Orsino finishes you'll be free to go." Meredith's expression was smug.

"And I _have_ finished." Orsino snarled, "You won't be able to use the arm for about a week, but the rest of you will be fine. Just try not to strain yourself killing anymore mages."

"I'll try." Hawke quipped back.

"Are you hearing this, Meredith! This woman has absolutely no regard for-" Orsino started before the Knight-Commander cut him off.

"Quiet! _All_ of your precious mages would be dead if it weren't for her, so count your blessings while you still have them." Orsino shook his head at her, but said no more. Meredith turned back to Hawke, "Thank you, Champion, the city appreciates your services."

"My services?" Hawke took on a distinctively hostile tone, one her companions knew meant trouble, "I didn't do any of this for your damn city, I'm only here because my friend was in trouble. You can take your title and shove it up your ass."

"Hawke!" Aveline scolded.

"Oh you shut your mouth too, Aveline! You were ready to throw me in prison for the rest of my life not five minutes ago."

Aveline just shrugged, she couldn't argue with the truth. Meredith's opinion of Hawke had soured substantially at her outburst, though she didn't know that for Hawke it was more of a customary greeting. Much like Orsino, she had no idea just how to respond to that. She was the leading authority in the city, especially with the Viscount gone, no one talked to her like that.

There was an awkward silence and for a moment it was undecided whether Varric or Hawke would break it. Hawke won. "Well, this has been _loads_ of fun, but after hanging with the Qunari all night I am disgustingly sober. So, I'm gonna go," she pointed to the door, "and you all can just do whatever the fuck it was you came in here to do. Alright? Alright."

Hawke and her friends exited promptly, save Aveline who had her job to do, and lo and behold, there were the Circle mages, slowly rising from their less than conscious states. "You really did plan all of this out, didn't you?" Varric asked in disbelief.

"Everything but killing Anders, that was just a happy accident." She shrugged.

"So you aren't even a little bit upset? I mean, he was with us for a long time." Isabela wondered.

"What have I told you a thousand times, Isabela? Abominations are _evil_. Every last one of them. I don't care if it was a spirit or a demon, it wasn't right. Mages are bad enough on their own."

"I know, I know, not all bad people are mages, that whole bit."

"Yes, _that_ whole bit." Hawke rolled her eyes.

The group came to an intersection, where Hawke turned the wrong way. "Uh, Hawke, the alcohol is this way." Varric spoke.

"Uh, Varric, no it's not." Hawke argued.

"Well unless they burned down the Hanged Man, oh shit, they didn't, did they?" Varric was mortified.

"No, Varric, they didn't." Hawke rolled her eyes and continued on her way.

"Then why are we going this way?"

"The city is literally on fire. Do you really think Corff is pouring drinks? No. The only accessible alcohol in Kirkwall, that I_ don't_ have to steal, is this way."

"In _my_ mansion, I assume?" Fenris asked, catching on to Hawke's _ingenious_ plan.

"Yes, in _your _mansion, and if you try and stop me," Hawke smiled back at him over her shoulder, "I'll kill you."

Fenris rolled his eyes, "Oh, perish the thought."

"Well," Isabela said, "I'm really not fond of that fancy Tevinter shit, so Varric and I are going to use this opportunity to raid Corff's storage room."

"Wait, but I _am_ fond of that fancy Tevinter shit!" Varric protested.

"Not today you aren't."

Varric sighed and shook his head, "Fine, fine, just making me walk farther," he muttered, "I got short legs, you know."

"Don't care." Isabela replied, dragging him in the other direction.

Hawke was so focused on her goal she didn't even seem to notice the party thin. She marched her way in the door, through the house and straight down to the wine cellar. Fenris followed close behind. Her eyes scanned the room, and came up empty. She turned to face him, "What the fuck, Fenris?"

He stood precariously close to her, "You aren't the only one who went on a bender, Hawke."

"No fucking way you drank everything, you'd be dead." Hawke argued.

"There's probably a bottle left." Fenris shrugged, though he had no intention of letting her get at it.

"Well, where the hell is it?"

"Hawke, can you stop thinking alcohol for a single minute and just talk to me, you almost died!" Though he did not mean to, Fenris sounded more angry than concerned.

"And? I _almost die_ every other day." She snapped back.

"Not like that, you don't." Fenris said, "That is undoubtedly the stupidest, most reckless, worst planned thing you have _ever_ done!"

"Oh, and did you have a better idea?" Hawke crossed her arms defensively.

Fenris paused to shake his head, "If we had stood together we would have won all the same, and you might not have- Hawke, if that mage hadn't been there you _would_ have died."

"You're- you're actually concerned about this?" Hawke sighed, "I'm fine, Fenris. In fact, I'm great, I feel like I just woke up from the best nap ever. I may hate mages, but I can't argue with results."

"But what about next time? What happens when there isn't healing?" Fenris's tone grew even more heated, "You should have told us what was going on, Hawke! You should have told _me._"

"It wasn't your fight, Fenris!"

"Yes it was! Because it concerned_ you!_ That _is_ my fight. Do you have any idea-" But any further protest was halted when Hawke abruptly pressed her mouth to his. Maybe it was adrenaline, maybe it was her new found sense of freedom from her old life, but whatever it was, it was long overdue and thoroughly unavoidable.

There was hardly any space between them, hands grasping at hair and clothing and flesh will little regard for the blood-stained state they were in. Layer after layer came off and neither showed any intention of moving to a more comfortable room. For the first few moments it was a push and pull, but the silent decision was made that Hawke would take the lead.

She kissed her way down his chest, but was less than diligent in her rushed foreplay. Hawke had her eye on the prize, but hesitated. Fenris touched her hair and gently pulled her up by the chin, "What's wrong, Hawke? We don't have to do this."

She clasped their hands between them and kissed him again, "No, I want to, I just- this isn't a one time thing for me." Hawke's eyes were surprisingly soft as she spoke, "I- We can't go back from this. Are _you_ sure you want this?"

"Hawke, there are only two things in this world I am certain of. The first is that I hate shoes," he cracked an awkward smile, "and the second is that I am completely incapable of staying away from you."

"Then let's fucking do this." Hawke let out a full on chuckle as their mouths joined again.

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><p>They were at it long into the night and it was quite some time before they found their way to an actual bed. It was marvelous thing for both of them, all the cards were on the table and they were totally comfortable with each other. Hawke had trouble taking anything seriously. Fenris was too serious. Hawke cussed far too much. Fenris had a tendency to brood. They were both rampant alcoholics. That was alright though, because they were together.<p>

They had approached a moment of silence, and for a while they were still. Then Hawke spoke, "I'm sorry, Fenris. I'm sorry I didn't tell you what I was doing." She still wasn't good at apologies, "I never considered that- My whole life I've done the fighting. No one has ever fought for me."

"What about Isabela? Or Bethany?" Fenris asked.

"Isabela just assumes I can take care of everything, which I do, and while Bethany cared about me, she fought for her son."

Fenris wasn't sure what to say, but he understood. She was far too independent to really rely on anyone else, he was the same. It was fitting that they had found each other. "I'm here now."

"So am I," Hawke said, "in case you ever decide to do something crazy."

"Good." He smiled back at her, he hadn't ever had someone to fight for him either. "You know, Hawke, when I first met you I was certain that you would swear at the Knight-Commander herself if you had the chance, but I had no idea it'd happen like that."

Hawke chuckled, "Oh, I'll bet. So... Are you ready to go again?"

"I thought you'd never ask."

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><p>Hawke rejected her title. Champion of Kirkwall was not something she wanted to be, but when she and Fenris returned to The Hanged Man the next day it was cheers for the Champion that greeted her. It quieted after a while, but she was certain it was going stick. Champion. Perhaps it wasn't such a bad thing.<p>

"In admiration for your service to the city," Corff began as she and Fenris sat with the rest of their group, "I'm going to clear your tab."

"The whole fucking thing!" Hawke questioned in excitement.

"The whole thing." Corff nodded.

"Oh, Corff, you're the best!"

"I thought I was the best?" Varric spoke up.

"You are." Hawke said.

"But you just said he was the best."

"He is."

"I don't think you understand how 'the best' works, Hawke," Isabela added, "because if you did, it would definitely be me. Anyway, anyway, anyway,_ why_ didn't you come home last night?"

"Because _you_ are not the best." Hawke said with a smug smile.

Isabela whistled, "Oh, lucky girl!" Isabela winked at Fenris but he was far beyond being embarrassed, he seemed more prideful than anything.

"Then I guess _something_ good came of this." Aveline added.

"Oh, Aveline! How are you today?" Hawke asked with a surprisingly genuine concern.

"Fairly well, aside from all the fucking messes I have to clean up."

"Hey! Watch your mouth!" Hawke scolded. Aveline just stared back at her with a raised brow, "Alright, alright, I know, I'm so full shit."

"You are," Aveline nodded, "but anyhow, before we get back to business as usual I wanted to apologize for doubting you. You could have _definitely_ done this differently, but you got it done nonetheless. Thanks for that."

"And?" Hawke asked expectantly.

"And what?"

"And I'm totally awesome and you'll never doubt me again, right?"

Aveline laughed, "Don't push it, Hawke."

"Fine, fine." Hawke clapped her hands together, "Varric! What have you got for me today?"

"Back to the grind already?" He questioned.

"Indeed, I mean, does this city ever really stop needing me?"

"Fair point." Varric shrugged. "I've got a contact, Edge, that wants to see you, something to do with you and nobles. I had a feeling that you'd want to get straight back to work, so I already arranged a meeting, tonight in Hightown."

"And that doesn't just wreak of ambush?" Fenris pointed out with only the slightest acidity.

"So what if it does? You really think we're going to have any problem?"

Fenris just sighed, it wasn't like he could talk Hawke out of it.

"Good! Good! Ambushes are good! Means I'm popular." Hawke was quite excited.

"I doubt this is going to go well." Fenris sighed.

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><p><strong>AN:**_Finally!_ Finally they're a couple! (Even though I'm still kind of iffy on some of my own dialogue.) And yes. We're doing Mark of the Assassin. Just letting you know in case you haven't played it yet. There will be spoilers.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Let me know how it was! Love you guys, all that good stuff!


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